


This Whole Situation

by fowo



Series: fowo's TMNT universe [1]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: (realistic enough to make things awkward but not realistic enough to make stuff not work), Asexual Character, Coming of Age, Emotional Growth, Familial Love, Interspecies Relationship, M/M, Standalone, Xenobiology, and refusing to take it off while holding intense eye contact, artistic license: turtle anatomy, everything is awkward, no Tcest, not so much slow burn as two people with their hands on a hot plate, writing 50k of shippy fic as an excuse to write family feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:40:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 68,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22130995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fowo/pseuds/fowo
Summary: "I'mnotgay," Raph said."You like girls, then?" Donnie asked.Raph made a face. "Humans are weird."Donnie smiled. "They are," he agreed. "But," he added pointedly, "you like Casey.""'Course I do," said Raph, crossing his arms. "He's my best friend.""Well. If it's that easy, why the huffing and hawing?"---It's not that easy.***This is the story of how it's absolutely no big deal for Raphael when Casey comes out as bi. Really. It isn't. Why would it be?But it kinda is.
Relationships: Casey Jones/Raphael (TMNT)
Series: fowo's TMNT universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648024
Comments: 85
Kudos: 233





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to this labor of love. I spent the last 10 months writing this baby and pouring my life and soul into it. It started out as a dare I was goaded into and then quickly mutated into the queer coming of age story I would've liked to read when I was a confused teenager like Raph. 
> 
> Though I've tagged the ship, this story is as much about him and his family.
> 
> This story isn't really related to any canon rendition of the boys. There's a bit of pretty much every universe, and several hints to them as well. That said, they are different species. And they wear clothes, because I refuse to believe that four pubescent mutant boys would be so secure about their appearances that they don't.
> 
> For anyone curious, [there's art](https://ask-tws.tumblr.com/tagged/character+sheets). 
> 
> I hope you have as much fun reading this as I had writing it.

Whether or not it had something to do with it becoming spring had yet to be determined, but April started dating again.

The reptilian part of her family was only slowly coming out of their lazy, hazy winter mood (they didn't brumate, but the winter months were  _ cold _ and even with Donnie's tech their natural instincts often got the better of them) and confronted with these news, were startled into a full blown “mission status: sick” mood right after getting up. 

The boys were equally excited and protective, and between Mikey wanting to know every detail and Raph threatening to bust kneecaps if anyone treated her wrong, it was a recurring theme whenever she visited.

And of course everyone wished her well and wanted her to be happy, but everything weird and disastrous happening to her was still everyone's favorite thing. April would tell them of failed dates, or catastrophic chat conversations, of rude and socially inept dudes and it all delighted and pissed off the boys in equal measure.

Mikey, of course, was the most actively invested in her love life, and not maliciously. He knew he had only six fingers and was green, but he wanted to experience all things relationships for himself  _ so much _ . So April sometimes handed him her phone when a dude wouldn't leave her alone so Mikey could have some fun pretending to be a girl to prank some douchenozzle.

Mikey had occasionally said something about wanting to try online dating, and the fact that he hadn't made a profile yet probably meant that he'd gotten a stern talking-to by a certain blue turtle concerning what it meant to be mutants living in secrecy under New York.

But Mikey was so  _ happy _ chatting with people, even the stupid ones, that April couldn't help but indulge him, and Leo wasn’t  _ her _ team leader so he didn’t do anything about it. He certainly gave her what Mikey called the “we'll have a talk, young lady” look but he never really did.

Either way, it was a never ending source of entertainment.

\--

Movie night was every Friday. It was a scheduled event solely for their human companions, who had work and parents much more of a social life than four turtles and their rat dad living in the sewers. 

The rules to watching movies together had been established in childhood to make things fair: They took turns in picking their movies and nobody was allowed to veto. They all equally suffered under their brothers' tastes: Raph suffered most under Leo's, Leo most under Mikey's, Mikey under Donnie's and Donnie under Raph's. It was perfectly fair. 

That was, until April and Casey appeared in their lives. Now they had two tech geeks and two sports nuts. Leo shot himself in the foot by bringing up the question whether or not he and Mikey would get one additional pick to a democratic vote, which he lost because he and Mikey were still the minority. 

They opted for a pool of movies instead that they drew from each week. This frustrated everybody because on one rare occasion they pulled Raph's movies three times in a row and even Big Red got bored of it really quick. 

But it had never been about the movies in the first place. It was about spending time together, and most of the time, the movies were nothing but background noise to their conversations.

Tonight had been Mikey's movie, some awful romcom with Will Smith being a date doctor, and April had her fair share of snark to say to that. 

Considering she had been chatting with a guy up until she had entered the sewers, and her story was actually  _ real _ , nobody paid much attention to the movie anymore. 

Mikey giggled where he had retreated to the kitchen table with his share of Chinese. He had April's phone, typing furiously with two thumbs faster than Don did with six on a proper keyboard. 

April shot him a fond look and took another bite of her chow mein. "So I didn't text him back after that," she continued her story, "and then he started to call me names, and that's where Mike is at now."

"I apologized and now he's totally DTF again," said Mikey, without looking up. "It's really cool how easy these guys are manipulated."

"Just make sure you block him when you're done," said April, and Mikey gave her a thumbs-up without stopping to type.

"Men are assholes," said Casey, next to Raph on the couch with his mouth full of fried noodles, and four teenage turtles nodded in agreement.

April laughed. "You're alright, Case," she said, nudging his knee with her foot playfully.

“Aw, thanks Ape, it’s a conscious effort,” said Casey, winking at her from where he sat next to Raph on the second couch.

Mikey made kissy noises from the kitchen and Casey and Raph simultaneously threw empty soda cans at him that Mikey avoided with a squeal and excellent everyday Ninjutsu, retreating to a further corner of the lair to continue his online dating scheme.

"Don't be jealous, Raph. I'm not taking your man," said April cheerfully, and Casey chuckled a little, but Raph bristled.

"He's not ‘my man,’ I'm not gay," he groused, the same moment that Leo rolled his eyes with a sigh and muttered, "Here we go again," under his breath.

April lowered her chopsticks. "It's just a joke, Raph," she said.

"Fragile masculinity," Donnie provided softly. He was sitting at the kitchen table a little ways off, reading something on his tablet while eating. It gave him a good excuse to not have to talk to anyone too much. His anxiety had been high lately, and they all respected that sometimes he wouldn't quite join their antics. He still liked to just sit with them.

"I'm not fragile," hissed Raph, like someone who was, in fact, very much that.

Casey chuckled into his food. "Sucks to be seventeen," he said fondly. 

"Almost eighteen!" said four turtles in unison because their birthdays were coming up and eighteen was a  _ big deal _ .

"Eighteen," Casey amended amicably. "It gets better."

Raph said nothing, because saying anything was like admitting that he was insecure and of course he wasn't. He ate his rice with a scowl.

Leo cleared his throat a little. "Of course we accept anyone, regardless of skin color or sexual orientation," he reminded everyone, like they weren't  _ green _ to begin with.

"Or gender identity!" yelled Mikey from across the lair.

"Or gender identity," said Leo. Everyone was aware that Mikey was skirting the binary, but of course they were 'not into labels,' so they just went on with their lives.

And that was that. Everyone ate their dinner, and Mikey occasionally read strings of conversation out loud, and the boys cheered with infantile delight when Mikey  _ earned _ (his words!) a dick pic. April didn't look and just shook her head and reminded Mikey to  _ delete  _ it and block the number, but the turtles all wanted to look and talk shit. (Leo muttered something about decency but he  _ was _ there, peeking out from behind Raph's shell looking guilty.)

They  _ were _ teenagers after all.

Donnie was explaining something about circumcision to them, and three turtle brothers had comically huge, shocked eyes at the newfound knowledge, and then all four of them stared at Casey who lifted his hands up in horrified defense.

"My Ma's catholic!" he blurted, and Donnie nodded sagely and went on to explain religious differences next, which at least diverted attention away from Casey again.

He rubbed his forehead. "Christ," he muttered so only April next to him would hear. "They like this with you, too?"

"Are you kidding?" April laughed around a full mouth, spraying bits of her food over herself that she guiltily wiped away with a chuckle. She chewed, swallowed, and then continued, "They don't ask me that kinda stuff. But it's only a matter of time. I'm giving them two or three years, when the worst of puberty's over."

"God I don't miss that time," said Casey, without inflection.

"Me neither," said April. "The worst."

And both of them watched as their ninja turtles argued about whether they were Shintoists by proxy or not.

\--

As a respectable human being, April kept normal hours despite her nocturnal family, so she left after dinner and a movie to get a few hours of shut-eye before she had to get up for work. She retrieved her phone from Mikey and gave him a kiss on his snout, hugged Leo and Raph and only waved at Donnie, who was still a bit skittish but waved back thankfully. 

Casey, whose schedule—and healthy life habits—were more lax, stayed behind when Leo left to take April home. He insisted on doing so despite her protests, and Leo could be more stubborn than Raph if he wanted to, so it was easier to just give in and accept his help. Don vanished back into his lab to decompress from a social dinner, so that left Mikey, Raph and Casey alone in the living room.

"Smash Bros.?" asked Mikey, flipping through his Switch games. Casey shrugged but Raph made a face. He kept losing against Mikey and had sworn off the game for forever—or at least for the rest of the week. 

"Look man," said Mikey, "if you didn't insist on playing Bowser maybe you'd beat me. Pick someone who can actually  _ beat _ Daisy, not just who looks most like you!"

"You  _ literally _ only picked Peach to make her orange!" snarled Raph. 

"Still a better fighter than  _ Bowser. _ " 

"You're telling me you don't play  _ Squirtle _ ?!" Casey asked him laughing, only to immediately get hit by a throw pillow in the face. He threw it right back and told Mikey, "Let him. We can play one on one."

"But he's like this  _ all the time _ !" Mikey complained as if Raph wasn't right there. "He comes up with the shittiest reasons to not play with me anymore! This is how we fall apart as a family, Raph, with you ditching your duty to play video games with me! Who else am I gonna play Dream Daddy with,  _ Leo _ ?"

"I don't know, ask April or somethin'," said Raph sourly. 

"'Dream Daddy'?" asked Casey with a disbelieving chuckle. "The fuck is that?"

"A dating sim," Mikey sighed and then leaned back to pointedly talk in Raph's direction. "But Raph is being a  _ big baby _ and won't play with me!"

"Fuck off, Mike." 

Casey looked from Mikey to Raph, who seemed as annoyed as uncomfortable as he got off the couch to leave for the fridge. Casey looked back to Mikey. "Why do you need someone to play a dating sim with?" 

Mikey heaved a big sigh. "We do funny voices! Raph's good at it, too," he explained sullenly. "And I wanted him to be Robert! But you play as a guy dating other guys and Raph is too fucking macho or whatever, and…” Mikey fidgeted a little, guilty. “ I dunno, I'm scared to play alone. What if I fuck up? I don't know how to date!"

Casey chuckled a little with a fond expression on his face. "Mikey, you text with real people," he said.

"Oh. Yeah I guess." Mikey thought about it for a moment. "But I don't worry about their feelings because they're assholes."

"The characters  _ aren't real _ !" roared Raph in the distance. "They don't have feelings!" 

Mikey screeched, jumping off the couch with an accusatory finger point in Big Red's direction. "Don't say that about my babies! Amanda is my beautiful daughter and if you hurt her I  _ will _ cut you!"

"With nunchaku?" Raph sneered back. "I'd like to see you try!"

"I'll get the pizza cutter and scrape it between your scutes!"

"A back massage, how nice!"

"I will  _ filet _ you into turtle sashimi!"

"Show me this Robert guy," said Casey in the middle of the brothers shouting at each other. "Maybe we can play?"

Mikey perked up, his fight with Raph forgotten. Raph lamented some more but was ignored, which resulted in him stomping around the lair irritably. The fact that Mikey had named his avatar Magic Mike had Casey in hysterics for a good ten minutes even as Mikey was explaining the game to Casey and why Mikey had chosen his (human) dad to look the way he did. By then Raph had given up on the theatricals and came back to the living room to sit with them, but not without pouting.

"I don't feel super good about playing human avatars," Mikey sighed miserably. Green hair and an orange shirt was as close to turtle as it got. 

"Makes sense," said Casey, nodding slowly. He was lost in thought for a moment and then elbowed Mikey. "What if we made me? I could totally be a dad."

Mikey perked up. "That would be  _ hilarious _ ," he said. "Do I get to voice you? My Brooklyn accent is pretty good!"

"Don't encourage him," said Raph, sitting there on the second couch, knitting like a big brooding heap of irritation.

"Heck yeah I'm encouraging him," griped Casey. "You're just a big fuckin' bully."

Raph opened his mouth to say something, clicked his beak shut, put down his knitting and left again without a word.

"That's gonna haunt him for the rest of the week," whispered Mikey, editing a new avatar to look like Casey, switching through the skin tones to see which of the browns fitted Casey's complexion best. 

"Good," huffed Casey. "He can sit in a corner and think about what he's done."

Mickey snickered. "You're mean, Casey."

"Yeah, but sometimes that's the only way Raph understands."

"Nah, I think he listens to you," Mikey said. "He would have wiped the floor with me if I had said that to him."

Casey shrugged. "Kinda proves my point, doesn't it?"

Mikey said nothing, concentrating on the character editor. "How about we give you a dad bod?" he asked, and Casey shoved at him.

\--

They were neck deep in romancing Robert (voiced excellently by Casey who in turn was voiced by Mikey with an honestly exaggerated accent) when Leo returned home from escorting April. Raph had vanished into Don's lab to be with a brother who would not hassle him about everything.

Leo put down his gear in his room and then came to sit with Casey and Mikey. "Is that the gay game?" he asked after a moment of watching, and Mikey nodded. "Raph chicken out?" asked Leo with a soft chuckle. Mikey nodded again and rolled his eyes at the same time. "I'm not surprised," said Leo, picking up a comic he had put down earlier to bring April home.

"I am," muttered Casey, crossing his arms. 

"Don't think too much about it, it'll give you a headache," said Leo with a small grin, but when Casey didn't laugh, he looked back up. "Casey?"

"'s he have a problem with stuff like that?" asked Casey, and Mikey was startled into a disbelieving laugh.

"Have you  _ seen _ Raph?" he asked. 

Casey shrugged. "This is New York, man," he said.

"Don't think anything of it," Leo said. "Some internalized homophobia comes with the whole alpha male thing, I think."

"No it doesn't," said Casey, gesturing about himself.

Leo looked a little embarrassed and hid behind his comic. “Don’t ask me, I don’t know where he has it from,” he said. “I blame the stupid movies he watches.”

"Dude, Raph is like, peak insecure," said Mikey thoughtfully. The game was forgotten for the moment. "And all things romance and shit scares him, and he won’t admit to being scared so he covers that up with machismo."

This time it was Leo's turn to break into a disbelieving chuckle. "Raph? Insecure? Yeah right."

"Bro, he totally is," Mikey insisted. "All that flexing muscles around is nothing but a desperate try to seem tough. He's a big old softie and you know it."

"I mean, yeah, of course..." Leo thought for a moment. "He doesn't make it through movie night without crying when we watch  _ anything _ that has just a little bit of emotion in it, compared to his shitty action movies."

"Man I'm  _ so _ bringing Brokeback Mountain over next time," Casey said, smiling now, and they all laughed. 

"Yes, speaking of which," said Leo, grabbing his phone to check his calendar. "April said she can't make it next week. You on?"

"Oh," said Casey. "Ah, man." He rubbed his neck. "Sorry guys, I can't come." He looked a bit uncomfortable. "I have a... uh, thing."

"A  _ thing _ ?" asked Raph, suddenly behind them, and they all jumped a little and felt guilty because nobody had heard him approach. (Big hulking turtle, still a ninja.) Raph didn't let on if he’d overheard their gossip though, just crossing his arms over his plastron, glowering. "'n what's that supposed to mean?"

"Raph," said Leo, looking up at him sternly upside-down over the back of the couch. "Casey's allowed to have a life aside from us."

"Yeah dude, if I were him, I wouldn't wanna hang with you either," said Mikey cheerfully, and only evaded getting smacked in the face by a throw pillow because Leo grabbed it mid-air. Mikey leered, even though Leo pointedly threw the pillow over to his couch with a warning look. 

"So what's April doing?" Mikey asked. "Is she going on another date?" 

" _ April _ should be allowed to have a life aside from  _ you _ and your nosy questions, shell-for-brains," said Raph, and Mikey stuck his tongue out at him.

"Actually," said Casey, apropos Raph, " _ I'm _ going on a date, so—"

"Ohhh," hooted Mikey, throwing up his arms and giving Casey a double finger gun. "Who's da man, Case! I want to know  _ eeeverything _ !"

"I'll tell you after," Casey promised with a chuckle that sounded a little—well, sheepish? Which was a weird thing for Casey to be.

"Whoa what?" asked Raph, leaning his forearms on the couch next to Casey to look at him. "When did  _ you _ start dating?"

"I'm not  _ dating _ , I'm going  _ on _ a  _ date _ , there's a difference."

"Whatever," said Raph, waving him off. "So who's the lucky girl? Is she hot? What kinda broads ya dig?" 

"Ugh." Casey made a face. "Don't call them that," he said, which, honestly, didn't really answer any of those questions. 

"Alright guys," said Leonardo with an amicable eye roll. "Leave the man alone." 

"I'm just' askin'!" said Raph defensively.

"You sound like Mikey," scolded Leo, which was an efficient way to shut Raph up. Mikey hooted at him and Raph looked around for something new to throw, but the empty pizza box he picked didn't have efficient air velocity. 

Leo chose to ignore them. "Another time then," he said. "I hope you have fun."

"Even if you don't, don't forget to tell me everything!" Mikey insisted.

"Sure," said Casey, sounding a little subdued.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl... I'm super anxious about this fic so any nice comment would fuckin' elate me. If you want, you can HMU on [twitter](https://twitter.com/fowo__) where I yell about teetlez just about 24/7. And it's always more fun if you have someone to yell with you, you feel? 
> 
> And if you're into that sort of thing, this fic has an [ask-blog on tumblr](https://ask-tws.tumblr.com) that you can pester the boys on. So come say hi! c:


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so.
> 
> TWS is, let's say, 75% done and has 16 chapters currently (that might change, as there's still a lot of editing to be done) that form two story parts. And I'm writing two one-shot sequels. I will post up to chapter 6 (as chapter 7 starts part two) weekly and then probably take a little hiatus to catch up. Sounds good? Sounds good.
> 
> And thus, let's see about... this whole situation. *gestures mildly*

Raph rapped his knuckles against the window of Casey's apartment. He squatted on the fire escape in the dark, just another shadow in the night, until the window opened and he could hop in.

Being pressured to keep a certain level of cleanliness at home that didn't come naturally to him (it was just common decency when living with four other people; plus Don was a bit of a germaphobe and Leo lived and breathed Shinto minimalism), Casey's casual mess always was a balm on Raph's frayed nerves.

Clothes strewn around, dishes from yesterday on the table and the kitchen counter, hockey gear crammed in a corner. Casey slept on a daybed that may or may not be used as a couch when he had visitors; it was always a gamble. Today it was folded out to its bed form, blanket and pillow left the exact way that he had left them after getting up.

Raph loved being here. It felt liberating. He didn't have to go and cause trouble anywhere, no matter what _Leo_ believed; just being here, with Casey, was enough for Raph.

Leo just didn't _get_ it, but that wasn't news.

Casey's place was a little haven for Raph. He loved his brothers and his Dad, he really did, but if he didn’t leave occasionally, he might very well go insane.

"What crawled up _your_ ass and died?" asked Casey, immediately picking up on Raph's mood as he closed the window behind him.

"Leo, who else," muttered Raph, stalking over to the couch, not giving a shit that it was technically a bed right now, and flopped down on it, throwing his arms out. "He's so anal retentive the stick up his _own_ ass ain't enough apparently."

Casey laughed, and the sound of it was enough to calm Raph down a little. Chances were, had Raph told Leo exactly this, they'd have been fighting about it for the next three hours, until either they went to bed angry or Dadbroke it up (and they went to bed angry _and_ having been scolded).

But Casey just laughed. He didn't judge, he just accepted it the way it was. (He'd told them he had a little sister, so he knew what it was like, probably.)

"I know exactly what you need," said Casey with a wink. "Put that cap back on, we're going out."

"What?" Raph propped himself up on one elbow.

"Yeah," said Casey, grabbing his own jacket to throw over. "Were gonna go for some food and then you can use your ninja skills to sneak us into the rafters for tonight's game."

"Oh," said Raph, eyes going wide. That was quite the risk, and he knew it.

And nothing got Raph quite as excited as breaking a few rules. As they say, asking forgiveness was easier than asking permission. He would worry about Leo later.

\--

If he was totally honest with himself, Raph knew this was a vicious circle: how much he liked _leaving_ even though it meant abandoning the security of _home_ , making Leo hound him about it which only made Raph want to leave _more_.

He hadn’t really realized it before meeting Casey.

Casey Jones had entered their lives pretty much the same way Casey Jones did anything: head over heels and with more luck than judgment.

And because he was tenacious, he just... stuck around. Throw turtle mutants living in the sewers under New York at Casey and watch how he just rolled with it.

After initially butting heads with Raphael (quite literally, oftentimes), they both quickly realized how well they liked each other, and became thick as thieves.

It terrified Leonardo.

Not because Raphael had made a friend. No, that was something they needed to be grateful for in their lives. It did all of them good to have someone to talk to who wasn't a brother. That was just _healthy_ . But all the same, none of the brothers had ever really spent time apart from each other. They did _everything_ together, _always_. And now Raph left Leo behind, and Leo couldn't make sure he'd be okay. (When did closeness become codependency, anyway?)

Casey, carefree and adventurous as he was, dragged Raph along to shenanigans topside. That was a terrible first. They never left the sewers alone, and never without a good reason. Of course, as soon as he had tasted freedom, Raph drenched himself in it like a man dying of thirst.

And, yeah, of course: He only went at night, only under a thick layer of clothes and caps to hide. Raph wasn't an idiot and Leo _knew_ this. Leo wouldn't go to bed until Raph was home safe either way.

Raph, naturally, _hated_ that. He felt policed and caged in. They fought about it without coming to any conclusions.

It took Splinter taking Leonardo by the elbow and telling him it was _okay_ , that he trusted Mr Jones, and that he, Splinter, had known all his life that this day would come. That they would leave, as all children do. Leonardo, too.

And so, he asked Leonardo if he didn’t want to go to that art exhibit on East Asian calligraphy that Leo had been longingly ogling flyers of for months now.

Leo seemed more worried about going alone than his dad, but he did it. And it worked; he sneaked out one night, hidden under clothes, spent a night out without the world ending, and afterward he was more relaxed.

So, yeah. Maybe it was okay if they left sometimes. Donnie started to go to museums and Mikey, extra daring, snuck into movies. And Raph would hang out with Casey.

Leonardo let them go, but he couldn’t sleep without the sounds of all brothers being home, and he felt best when their human friends came to _them_ , instead.

  
  


\--

April was late for this week’s movie night and only made her appearance halfway through the credits. At least it distracted everyone from fighting whether the movie they'd watched was good or not. ("This wasn't realistic at all," Leo and Don were arguing, and "This isn't about _realism_ , it's about _fun_!" said Mikey and Raph.)

"We need to move movie night from Fridays if you guys keep having dates," Mikey lamented. As soon as April had taken up a spot on the couch he’d sprawled over her for some affection. "This is the second time in a row that it's only been five of us. This was supposed to be an _everyone_ kinda thing!"

"Sorry Mikey," said April, petting his head. He nuzzled into her touch. "I think this was the last one for a while anyway."

"Another idiot?" asked Leo politely.

April shrugged with one shoulder. "Actually, this one went pretty well. When I told him I was working with robotics he did not doubt or mansplain me, but actually listened to what I had to say, and readily admitted he knows nothing about computers. It was kind of charming."

"But?"

"Well, every Friday night I spend with randos from the internet, I miss movie night, right?"

"Aww," said Mikey affectionately, hugging her against him.

Leo chuckled a little. "Don't let his charm get to you," he said. 

"It's fine," said April, waving him off. "Honestly, I'm just short on time. And, honestly? Dating isn't the most relaxing thing in the world. I gotta get home from work on time, hop under the shower, shave, dress up, do my make up, do my hair, get there on time and _all_ without knowing if it's gonna be a big waste of time."

"That sounds exhausting," said Casey. "Being a woman must be hard."

"It _is_ , thank you," said April gleefully. "And when I hang out with you guys I can just do whatever, you know? It's nice."

"But you deserve romantic fulfillment!" Mikey whined, still attached to her in a dramatic hug.

April chuckled. "You sure you're not trying to find romantic fulfillment vicariously through me?" she teased fondly.

"Are you implying I do not one hundred percent always totally and fully support you?"

"No, I'm just saying you have an ulterior motive!"

"Joke's on you, because _Casey_ was on a date last week _too_ , and I can just start harassing _him_!" Mikey's head whipped around toward him so fast that it should've given him whiplash.

"Oh shit," said Casey. April and Raph laughed, and Leo sighed.

"Mikey," he warned.

"What?" asked Mikey testily. "You're gonna make me stop asking just because Casey's a dude?"

"Very sexist of you, Leo," said April. "We deserve to be treated equal."

"This is _absolutely_ not what I meant—" Leo sputtered, looking a bit flustered. Mikey and April laughed, and he relaxed a little. "I would honestly prefer it if these conversations didn't happen at all," he elaborated, sounding a little subdued.

"'s just like you, to get uncomfortable over a bit of personal relationship gossip," said Raph. Leo shot him a mean look and Raph grinned back at him, all teeth. "What? You noticin' the stick up yer ass, Fearless?"

"Raphael, I swear—" Leo began, bristling.

"Sooo, Casey..." said Mikey quickly, loudly, over two brothers who were going to pounce each other any second now. "How _was_ your date? You get lucky?"

Casey snorted a little. "You can't ask _me_ about _my_ sex life when you're not asking _April_ too, that's very sexist," he said, elegantly sidestepping the question.

"I have no sex life," said April gravely, which gave her a chorus of "aww"s that she chuckled at.

"Problem solved; _she_ answered, _you_ gotta answer," said Mikey excitedly. "So how did it go? What did you do? How was she?"

Casey realized that four turtles and his best girl friend were staring at him. He cleared his throat. " _He_ ," he said emphatically, "was very nice. We watched a Rangers game and he took me out for a burger. I had a great time."

There was a beat of silence as everyone digested what they'd heard. Then they erupted in a chorus of clamor:

" _He_?" asked Mikey, half jumping off the couch. "Whoa!"

"Mikey!" hissed Leo, who was so obviously just as perplexed as the rest of them but saved himself with the knowledge that he had to be the reasonable one.

"Oh _that_ explains a lot," said April, throwing her arms up. "Gay hook-ups are _so_ much easier!"

"That's a stereotype," said Casey. " _But..._ they are."

"Wait, wait," said Donnie, chiming in for the first time this evening because _new data_ . "I'm gonna need more information here. I'm inclined to believe dating rituals between two human males _would_ be different than between a male and a female, is that correct? It’s fascinating really, humans are the _only_ species to make a big deal out of it. Now, if we look at _penguins_ —"

"Donnie," Leo said in the exact same tone as before, maybe even a bit more exasperated because Donnie was supposed to be the _sane_ one.

"I'm just saying—" Donnie defended himself feebly.

"Let the turtle speak!" Mikey hooted. "Tell me about gay penguins!"

"Are there gay _turtles_?" Casey asked, because he was a jerkass and it was too easy to rattle Leonardo.

Donnie started to say, "Well, actually—" when Raphael, who had been weirdly silent up to that point, finally erupted:

"You're _gay_?!"

They were sitting next to each other, shoulder to shoulder as they had watched the movie. Now there was space between them, and Raph was staring at Casey, and Casey stared for a moment at the gap that had appeared between them out of nowhere.

"Bi," he said slowly. "Why, got a problem with that?"

"Of course not," answered Leo for Raph, hand steady on Raph's biceps. Raph shook him off.

"Casey, goddamnit," Mikey lamented, pulling his hands down his face. "I know what dating guys is like from April. I was hoping to learn about dating girls!"

"Technically you can just ask me," said April. “I’m a girl.”

"I've _dated_ girls before," said Casey with a shrug. "But I'm not looking for a relationship right now and usually girls are in for the long run."

"Oh, just hookups, huh?” April shoved at him cheerfully. “Casey, you _scoundrel_."

"Why are we still talking about this?" lamented Leo.

"You should learn to take an interest in your friends' social lives, Leo," said Mikey with a finger point.

"But burgers and a game ain't a date," said Raph, desperately.

"Dunno, can be," said Casey with a shrug, quite possibly antagonizing Raph out of principle.

Mikey jumped onto that opening like a cat pouncing on a mouse. Just to rival their very personal conversation (that Casey handled like a champ), Leo started asking April boring questions about her job and whether or not she wanted to take up ninjutsu training with them. Donnie was back on his phone.

The conversations evened out. Topics changed, and the whole thing seemed over and forgotten. Raph alone sat there like a giant brooding mountain of barely concealed internal conflict.

A long time after the credits had ended and they were watching nothing but the Netflix home screen, Leo got up. He slapped Raph softly against the biceps. "Help me clean up," he said, and Raph very visibly jumped before hurrying to his feet to help Leo collect their dishes and garbage.

"Mikey, you’re on dishwashing duty," Leo reminded him as they carried everything over to the kitchen.

Mikey groaned. “Your _mom_ is on dishwashing duty!”

“Michelangelo!”

April snickered. "I'll help," she offered, immediately cheering Mikey up.

"Me too," said Casey. "Hey, how about I get you a dishwasher? My Ma's got an old one in her garage she doesn't need anymore. Might be busted—"

"That's not a problem," Donnie said, head popping up. It was easy to tell he was more excited about fixing (read: improving) a machine than the comfort that it brought them. (Though of course, all their comfort was thanks to Donnie improving things, so nobody thought to complain.)

Leo watched everyone chatter and disperse, and then looked at Raph, who was still eerily quiet.

"You and me, dojo," he instructed, though he used the Brother Voice, not the Leader Voice.

Raph looked up, surprised, but Leo was already strolling down to the closed-off section of their lair without an explanation. Raph followed.

"What's up, Leo?" he asked when he slid the shoji closed behind himself.

Leo was already dressing up; putting on knee and elbow pads. "I thought a friendly spar would be nice."

"Uh, sure." Raph flashed a grin. "This soon after dinner though? Doesn't, I dunno, Lao Tze say that's bad for your Chi?"

"Har di har har, Raph. Less talk, more punching." Leo threw him his equipment and walked to the center of the mats.

"You're the boss, Fearless," Raph said, punching his fist in his palm and cracking his neck rather impressively.

Leo, however, knew all of his brother's little tricks and was pointedly not threatened at all. Raph finished dressing and joined his brother on the mats. They bowed deeply to each other, and as soon as that was done, Raph didn't wait for Leo to throw the first punch.

Raph was impulsive and impatient. He came at his enemies like a charging bull with its horns down, like a tsunami burying everything in its wake. He was dangerous in a fight, and didn't pull his punches, not even for his brothers. He threw himself even into sparring with blazing fists.

He was also very predictable that way.

Leo blocked each punch he threw at him, shielded kicks against his shell, circled backwards to lead Raph around the room. He couldn't take his brother in brute strength alone, so his best chance was in wearing him down, or making him so angry he slipped up. It was a much practiced song and dance between them.

Today it was obvious that Raph wasn't at his best. He was distracted by something, and though his punches and kicks were as fierce as usual, Leo could easily tell that his brother’s head wasn’t completely in the fight. He missed openings, and his attacks lacked that special Raph fierceness.

That was okay, though. That was exactly the point.

Leo led Raph around the room for a few minutes, taking a few punches but nothing too serious. After a while, Raph started to show signs of fatigue, his punches lacked smack and his kicks height, and in a particular inattentive moment, Leo managed to grab him and wrestle him to the mats in a hold. Raph had already used up all his strength and though he put up an effort, he couldn't break lose. They rolled around the mats for a few moments in a tangle of limbs, Raph snarling obscenities all the while until all fight left him.

To spare him the disgrace of having to tap out, Leo graciously released him. Raph huffed and rolled away.

"Feel better?" Leo asked.

"Yeah." Raph rubbed his face. He didn't even question it. Leo smiled.

"So," said Leo when Raph helped him up from the mat, both of them out of breath and with a few new bruises. "I think you and I ought to have a talk."

"No thanks," said Raph, turning to leave, but Leo grabbed him by the wrist. Raph stared at him disdainfully.

Leo wasn't intimidated by Raphael; not now, not ever. "Sit down and tell me what's eating you, Raph, I mean it," he said.

"What makes you think something's up?" asked Raph defensively and shook Leo's hand off.

"So you're saying you're not bothered at all that Casey said he's been on a date with a guy?" Leo crossed his arms over his plastron. "Feeling a little homophobic maybe?"

"Wh—" Raph started, then snapped his beak shut. He began to take off his gear. Leo let him, but watched closely. Raph turned his shell towards him. He very obviously was not gonna say anything more. Fine then.

"That was quite surprising news," said Leo conversationally as he started to take off his own gear. "I don't think any of us expected it. Have you seen Mikey's face? He's usually so proud of his, uhm, _gaydar_."

Raph grunted noncommittally.

"Personally I don't see what the big deal is," Leo continued. "Casey's likely been into men for as long as we've known him, and hasn't suddenly changed. It's our perception, nothing more."

Leo felt Raph looking at him, eyes boring into his shell. Leo spared him the direct eye contact. Almost eighteen years of knowing and living together with his brother gave him a pretty good idea of what might've been going around in his head.

"It will take some time to digest I suppose," Leo said, as if he wasn’t carefully picking every word to gently guide Raph through his inner conflict and come out the other end smelling of roses. News like this would take some time to blow over.

Leo put his gear away and Raph handed him his own. They tidied whatever was disturbed from their spar.

"I'm _not_ a homophobe," said Raph after a while, very softly.

"Good," said Leo. He looked at him, and though Raph looked insecure and hurt, he didn't look away. "For the record, I don't think you are. But I think you really need to work through whatever you're feeling, because Casey is your best friend, and if you let something like this come between you, that would be really sad."

Raph looked at the floor, flushed and ashamed. "Yeah..."

"And stupid." Leo grinned a little to lighten the mood.

"I get it!" Raph huffed. "It's just... It surprised me, is all. He's not—He doesn't look like—"

Leo gave him a pointed look and Raph threw up his arms. "It just surprised me!" he said again.

"I get that," said Leo. "And it's _fine_ , Raph. Just don't... make this a thing, okay? We accept our friends the way they accept us. Imagine if they didn't."

Raph groaned. "Yeah, yeah. Enough with the lecture. Okay? I'm over it."

"Good," said Leo, gave Raph a friendly pat on the shell and left him to his own devices.

\--

  
  


Raphael wasn’t good with changes. They all knew it. It was a bit ironic, with how good he was at improvising in a fight in a split second when he smelled an opening. But tell him Pluto wasn’t a planet anymore? Raph would throw tables and get very upset about something he had previously never cared about, ever.

Safe to say that finding out that his best friend liked guys would take a few days to adjust to. Raph stomped about a little, sour and jumpy, and then one morning all was well and forgotten, like he hadn’t thrown a gigantic tantrum over it for the past week. Nobody knew exactly what was going on in his head to work through a “crisis” like this because Raph wouldn’t share his thoughts openly, but they all figured, if some time was all he needed, then they wouldn’t bother him about it.

Casey came over so they could all watch a game, and they bumped fists and it was like nothing had ever happened. They sat next to each other, sides touching in the completely worn-down cushions of the couch, without Raphael crawling out of his shell with the heebie-jeebies. They shared a bowl of popcorn without Raph flinching when they reached out at the same time. All was well and good in their little family again.

Leo breathed a little easier, though probably not as much as Raph himself. It was hard being wary of your best friend for reasons you couldn’t exactly put into words yourself. Because yeah, Raph agreed of course: Who you wanted to fuck didn’t change who you were.

Mikey was a bit disappointed to learn that mating rituals (Donnie's words, though Casey adopted them gleefully, much to Leo's chagrin) really were different between guys, that is to say, _disappointing_. "It's mostly a question of swiping right," said Casey apologetically. "Since I'm not looking for a relationship right now."

Mikey was inconsolable. "Do I have to watch the gay version of _The Bachelor_ to learn?" he whined, and Casey laughed a little.

"C'mon Mikey, it's not that bad," he said. "There's not much to learn. Just be yourself, and either it clicks or it doesn't. You shouldn't change who you are for someone, right?"

"I guess," muttered Mikey, sounding defeated.

"Sounds like good advice in general," said Leo amicably. "If someone will only accept you in a certain way they expect from you, it's a good idea to re-evaluate the relationship."

"I'm re-evaluating _our_ relationship," grunted Raph with a grin.

Leo looked indignant. "That's different, Raph, I'm still team leader."

"Nyeh nyeh nyeh," muttered Raph, and Mikey snickered. If Mikey was happy again, the argument was well worth it. 

\--

  
  


April had brought them like twenty pounds of potatoes last time she visited so Mikey made roast potatoes for dinner together with some vaguely disgusting canned meat. Overall, Mikey’s cooking skills were very impressive though, and none of them really complained. Besides, he also put carrots and peas on their plates, and no matter how they liked to act like children, they were starting to grow old enough to actually appreciate varied food. 

It had been a normal, lazy day, not exactly one for the history books. They’d gotten up and had breakfast, headed to the dojo with Dad for daily training, everyone kind of dispersed for the afternoon and did whatever it was that made them happy until it was time for family dinner again.

Splinter carefully wiped grease from his mouth and whiskers with a napkin as he put his fork down. “An excellent meal, my son,” he said. “Thank you for cooking.”

“Of course, Dad,” Mikey said with his mouth full of food. 

“Also express my thanks to Miss O’Neil for the potatoes,” Dad continued. 

“Yes Dad,” said Leo. 

“Raphael, please join me in the dojo after you’ve finished eating,” said Splinter as he got up.

“Yes Dad—wait, what?” said Raph, startled, hands stilling where he had been about to refill his glass with soda. 

“Raph is in _trouble_!” Mikey cheered, as Leo and Don exchanged confused looks.

“Nonsense,” said Dad. “There’s no need to worry.”

“Uh,” said Raph nervously, “sure. Gimme a sec.”

The four turtles watched on as their father nodded and left them to shuffle towards the dojo. He slid the shoji closed after himself, and all of Raphael’s brothers looked at him.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t know what he wants!” said Raph. “I swear I haven’t done anything.”

“You always get so much special attention, I’m starting to think Dad has a favorite son,” said Mikey, and Raph kicked him under the table. 

“Did you forget to tape his shows again?” asked Dee, exasperated. “It was your turn!”

“Pretty sure I did!” said Raph. “‘sides, he wouldn’t call me to the dojo if I’d fucked that up, he’d be all up in my face about it.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing serious,” agreed Leo, and it eased Raph’s nerves a little if Blue thought so too. He was usually pretty in-tune with Dad. Not to say Dad did have a favorite son, but he definitely had one that took after him the most, so it was usually a safe bet to trust Leo on this. 

“I’mma go and see what the old rat wants,” said Raph, getting up. Mikey saluted him in parting, and Raph tugged his mask tails and dislodged the bow. Mikey screeched, and Raph laughed. 

Dad was waiting in the dojo for him, meditating. 

Raph sat down in seiza across from him.

Splinter breathed one last time, deep enough to move his shoulders, and opened his eyes.

“I wish to talk to you about breathing techniques,” he said.

“Uh,” said Raph. “Okay.”

“I know you suffer from inner tension, my son,” Splinter said. His paws lay open, relaxed, on his knees, and Raph stared at them to not have to look into his father’s eyes. “It can be a good thing: In battle, it gives you superiority over your opponent because you are always vigilant, always prepared for a strike, and it is very hard for something to surprise you.

“But it also means you spend energy on it when you need not to, and I wish to show you a way how you can find inner peace.”

“You know I suck at meditation!” Raph complained.

Splinter’s whiskers twitched. “Maybe,” he allowed. “But this isn’t meditation. This is _breathing_. You can breathe, can you not?”

Raph made a face but nodded. 

“What is your record in holding your breath, currently?” asked Splinter, because he knew Raph was proud of his physical accomplishments much more than his psychological ones. 

“41 minutes and 48 seconds,” said Raph immediately and without having to think about it. He knew all his numbers by heart. Don held first place in holding his breath, and Raph was dead set on surpassing him someday. 

“Impressive,” said Splinter, and meant it. He watched his son’s shoulders drop a little, loosen and relax. Very good. “Follow after me, my son,” he continued, and lifted his paws to accompany a breath he took, deeply into his stomach.

Raph, looking a bit embarrassed, followed along. Splinter nodded encouragingly. Together, they breathed out, and after that, in again, held it, breathed out. Without really noticing it, Raph closed his eyes. It got easier after a while. He didn’t need Dad’s instructions anymore, and they just sat in silence for a long while.

When Splinter spoke, Raph startled like he’d been woken up. “When you feel like you are tense,” Dad said, “remember to breathe like this. Deep into your stomach. You needn’t meditate or worry about what to do with your thoughts. For now, focusing on your breath will be enough to help you through it.”

“Okay,” said Raph, and felt, indeed, calm like he hadn’t in weeks. 

“You’re dismissed,” said Splinter, and Raph nodded, and bowed his head deep. He was surprised when Splinter bent his head to press a kiss to the top of his scalp. 

“And send in Michelangelo,” said Splinter, a bit cheekily. “I’m pretty sure he’s in trouble for eating my last ocha mochi.”

“Oh snap,” said Raph gleefully. “Will do, Pops.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READY SET GO!! are you excited?! i'm excited!!
> 
> lemme know what you think! and if you wanna chat, hmu on [twitter](https://twitter.com/fowo__), or ask the guys questions on [tumblr](https://ask-tws.tumblr.com/)!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I completely and totally forgot to give a big heapin' shoutout to derry!! She did all betaing for this work, and listens to me rant about this fic even though not knowing anything about turtles at all, what a champ. Without her, this fic wouldn't exist but her encouragement and kind words kept me going! Thank you derry!!

They didn't _really_ know their ages. Splinter always just said, “You were _very_ tiny and could fit into my palm. Ah, I miss those times. You were so cute. Look at you now! You have to bend down to me. When did that happen?” Disregarding all _that_ stuff, it probably meant they’d only been hatchlings prior to their mutation, of which they didn’t know the exact date either. 

Not having a birthday was very hard to deal with for four boys who, at some point, were old enough to perceive the world around them—and the one _above_ them, where everyone was different, and painfully so. But still, they often felt the same, and they learned of cakes with candles and gifts in colorful paper, and Splinter had no choice but to think of _something_ or else his boys would not stop crying. 

So he told them they could pick their own birthdays.

The day he said this was June 6th and Leo, a bit unimaginative, just stuck with that (without realizing that this made _today_ his birthday and _nobody_ was happy with that turn of events). Raphael immediately picked June 20th, but only because they agreed prior that they should have at least two weeks between their birthdays just to even it out a little. And Raph figured 14 days was the minimum of two weeks.

Donnie said he always liked autumn better anyway, and moved his birthday to October 19th because that's when Planck's Law was discovered and Donnie got... _something_ out of it.

At first Mikey complained that Donnie pushed him too far back in the year until Raph pointed out that it also got him closer to Christmas, and, yep, Mikey decided his birthday was December 24th, so that he would get to "wake up to presents two days in a row."

Everyone groaned, but that's what you get for letting Mikey pick his own birthday.

Initially, Leo prided himself on suddenly being the de facto oldest, but then Raph pointed out that he might as well have hatched on June 20th a year _before_ him and because nobody had a way to actually check, they would throw the “I’m older than you!” argument at each other every time they butted heads over something, always with the counterargument of “You don’t know that!” following right after. It very quickly became a treasured inside joke. Everyone agreed Mikey could be the youngest though, which he was fine with because it meant he had “baby rights for _life_ , baby!”

So yes, they didn’t really know their ages, and they were probably older than they thought due to what Mikey called “mutation flumoxion” (to which Donnie, without fail, replied, “that’s not a _word_ , Mikey!”) but it _had_ been eighteen years since Splinter had rescued them, and they all agreed that was _way_ more important than biological age anyway. 

So all data notwithstanding, at the beginning of June, Leo’s eighteenth birthday was first. 

Of course humble, collected Leo said he didn't want to celebrate, and that he was fine without making a big deal of it.

Of course nobody listened to him and they threw him a giant surprise party. (That was the more Japanese way of doing it anyway.) They got him basically all DVDs of every damn version of Star Trek there was, and a beautiful set of hakama and matching yukata in classic indigo blue. Leo's snout rumpled a little, and he smiled, and barely got a word out.

He didn't take the yukata off all night.

The party was tame. That wasn't to say they didn't have a good time—Mikey had made a glorious buffet they gorged themselves on, all six of them played Mario Kart and Smash Bros. until, as these games go, their family bonds and friendships were threatened. So then they sat through Leo reading them some haikus from the book Master Splinter had given him, and after that they got Casey to finally try out their newly scavenged Pants Pants Revolution arcade machine. (Casey did surprisingly well for a first try, but still only came in second last in front of Donnie.)

The worst that happened was that Raph and Mikey actually threw a mentos in a bottle of coke. Donnie might or might not have had something to do with it but he pleaded the fifth. After that, they all were soaked in bubbly, sticky foam, and Master Splinter had them all go shower and change.

They let April shower first because they were well-behaved boys and no animals. Well, until they basically just hosed each other down afterwards; their showers were large and communal to begin with because trying to fit a shell in a crammed shower stall was out of the question. It would probably be easier for them to squat in a bathtub.

When the humans stayed over, sleeping arrangements always went like this: Leo would forgo his bed so that April could take it. Leo was the only one whose corner at least had a shoji partition; the younger bros were all tucked away in nooks and alcoves. April really didn't care that much but appreciated that the boys were always so willing to give her room and treat her with almost comical amounts of respect.

Driven from his own bed, but an early riser, Leo would crash in Raph's top bunk bed above Mikey, because Don and Raph usually went to bed late. Donnie sleeping anywhere but his bed was out of the question, so Raph took the couch.

So that was how, at around 4 in the morning, Raph and Casey were sprawled on the couches in the living room with pillows and blankets. Donnie could still be heard typing in his lab, the light from his screens giving a soft blue shimmer. But otherwise, the lair was dark and quiet.

Raph punched his pillows into place and settled.

"So? Good birthday?" Casey whispered through the dark.

Raph snorted. "For Leo? Sure."

"Not what you want yours to be like?"

"Bit less poetry please."

Casey chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind. You want me to take you to a strip club?"

That got Raph to laugh. "Sure," he said, with the inflection of somebody who knew that wasn't gonna happen.

"Get you a lap dance?" Casey kept pressing, and Raph snorted, grabbed a pillow and hit him right in the face with it.

"Shut up, knucklehead," he said. "The poor girl would be traumatized for life. 'sides, humans are pretty gross. No thanks."

"Oh, ouch," said Casey, laughing and throwing the pillow back at Raph. "That wounds me."

"Tough luck," Raph hissed.

"Keep it _dooown_ ," groaned Leo from the bunk bed, followed by Donnie quickly hissing, "Sorry!" as if it was his fault Blue couldn't sleep.

Raph chuckled softly, boxed at Casey's shoulder in the dark for good measure, and settled back into his pillows.

\--

Raph's eighteenth birthday fell on a boring old Thursday.

He woke up that morning because he had a littlest brother singing Happy Birthday very loudly and very off-key. Raph had half a mind to throw a pillow at him, turn over and go back to sleep, but he noticed in time that Mikey was carrying a cake with lit candles.

Eating chocolate cake with extra cherries and whipped cream and blowing out 18 candles (how had Leo allowed Mikey to light all these?—or _had_ he?!) in bed wasn't the worst way to start the day.

He ate a second slice on the way to the kitchen where he found his remaining brothers. Donnie shot up the second he saw him to more or less jump into his arms for a big bear hug that reminded Raph that his docile nerd brother still was inhumanly strong.

"Happy birthday, Raphie," Donnie squealed with another tight squeeze.

"Thanks bro," muttered Raph, touched by Donnie's plain affection and his readiness to give it. Raph squeezed back, tightened his grip around his brother's shell and lifted him off the ground in a half suplex.

Donnie's squeal pitched into a shriek and a laugh as he clung to Raph's shoulders until he was let down again.

Leo got him next, opening his arms invitingly with a benign smile that Raph would have scoffed at usually, but this time they bumped into each other as if they hadn't seen each other in years, butting heads together and laughing. "Happy birthday," Leo said, one hand clasped into Raph's neck, the other clapping on his shell.

Something in Fearless' voice was so damn sincere that it made Raph's throat a little tight, and he laughed before patting Leo's shell amicably. Before he could let him go, though, Mikey hollered, "Group hug!" from somewhere and next thing they knew, Mikey had launched himself onto them, toppling them over in a tangle of limbs and shells and Donnie squeaked as Mikey pulled him down as well.

They laughed and shouted in what was half group hug and half free-for-all wrestling match, until the soft shuffle of feet and a cane gave them halt.

"Enough, enough," said Splinter, amusement lacing his voice. "Release my son for I wish to congratulate him."

"Which one?" said Mikey, clever as always.

Splinter laughed and shooed him until the turtle-tangle was dispersed and Raphael could finally stand up again. "I love all of you equally, my sons, but one of you is special today," Splinter said, lifting his arms up. Raphael immediately crouched down again to accept his father's gentle embrace. Splinter ran his hand over Raphael's head, and Raphael couldn't help but think how much he would have hated this kind of touch from anyone but his father. But the way Splinter did it, it made him feel safe, and loved. He wasn't gonna admit it out loud, but nuzzling his face into his father's fur and robe, and having his head and shell gently patted, was pretty damn close to the best feeling ever.

"Today you become a man, my son," Splinter said softly against Raphael's scalp. He half-murmured it, like it was a secret between them. "I wish you the strength to stand tall, the courage to stand down, and the wisdom to know when to do which. I thank you for letting me be the luckiest father, just by being yourself—my wonderful, caring, brave young boy."

Splinter leaned down a little more and pressed a kiss to Raphael's forehead. Raph sniffed a little, throat tight. Somewhere behind him, Mikey cooed. Just so he didn’t have to look at his brothers quite yet, Raphael remained in Splinter's patient embrace a little longer until he got to his feet again.

Splinter smiled at him and Raphael bowed at the waist. "Thanks, Dad," he said, and meant it.

Splinter nodded. "Now," he said. "I hear Michelangelo has baked chocolate cake. I would quite like to have a slice, if you boys haven't ravaged it yet."

They hurried to get their dad a slice of cake and a fresh pot of jasmine tea, and they sat around him with their breakfast.

"By the way," said Donnie with his mouth full of cereal. "We don't have individual gifts for you. You get one from all of us."

"Yeah even Dad!" chirped Mikey excitedly.

"Huh," said Raph, looking at Leo with wide eyes as if to confirm this, and Leo nodded, looking proud.

"It was Casey's idea," he elaborated. 

Raph stared a little longer at Blue with his spoon halfway to his mouth, milk dripping back into the bowl. Leonardo looked innocent like freshly pressed linen.

Mikey looked ready to spill the beans, tapping his feet excitedly under the table. Raph leveled him with a glare, and Mikey grinned from ear to ear. He didn't say anything.

"We thought Casey should do the honors," said Leo as if baby Godzilla among them wasn't trying to bully them all into answering the unspoken question just by glowering. "You should check in with him today."

"I have to fetch my _own_ damn birthday present?" Raphael scoffed. Though he saw Splinter's ears twitch, he knew he'd get a pass for cursing at the breakfast table, just today.

"It makes sense, trust me," said Donnie, and Mikey snickered conspiratorially. Leo looked smug and even Splinter ate his chocolate cake with an air of nonchalance.

"Fine," huffed Raph. "Be like that. I would rather spend my birthday with Casey than you losers anyway."

"Aw, boo," said Mikey. "You don't mean that. 'Humans are gross' and all."

"What? What's that got to do with anything?"

"Oh," said Mikey, blinking. "Nothing, I guess."

Raph looked from Mikey (who was suddenly very interested in the back of the Frosties box) to Leo, who looked just as confused and shrugged. Donnie was reading something on his phone and chewing slowly, meaning he hadn't paid attention past relaying the information he needed to tell.

Raph decided Mikey was just being an idiot again.

\--

The blinds to Casey's flat were drawn as Raph rapped his knuckles against the window.

It wasn't completely dark yet, and still potentially dangerous to be topside, but Raph had simmered in his curiosity all day until he couldn't take it anymore. His family had seen him off with happy expressions and waves. Was fuckin' weird. Whatever this mysterious present was, it better be good.

Nobody answered. The window remained closed. Raph frowned, tried again, and then got his phone out to text Casey he was there.

He was about to slip his phone back into his pocket when Casey rang, and Raph picked up, still crouched on the fire escape.

"I didn't expect you yet," Casey said by way of greeting. "I'm in the garage."

"Well hurry up," said Raph impatiently. "I'mma wait on the roof."

"Wait wait," said Casey before Raph could hang up. "Come on down here."

"What?"

"Come to the garage. I opened the back door."

Like all sensible mutant turtles, Raphael was no fan of entering confined human spaces. He made a face at his phone and then grunted an affirmative before hanging up and beginning the descent down the stairs.

The garage housed the cars of the inhabitants of Casey's apartment building and was only interesting because it had air vents that were potentially relevant for visiting mutant turtles. As it were, Raph came from the outside; scaling the building's back, dropping down to floor level and hesitating in front of the ajar door. Not that he expected something to go wrong, but there was something completely alien to just using a door like a human might.

And a tiny part of him was terrified that Casey was a total idiot after all and _had_ gotten hold of a stripper.

Raphael pushed the door open with his palm without entering, carefully surveying the garage beyond.

It wasn't spectacular. It was a garage. It was a few degrees cooler than outside; the light was white and unpleasant and flickered. The stench of fumes and gasoline was almost overpowering to Raphael's sensitive sense of smell, so much that he pressed the back of his hand against his snout with a grimace.

Casey popped his head up behind his old beat up van (that the brothers called "turtle taxi" for how often it was used to drive them around) and immediately broke into a wide, handsome grin.

Raphael scowled.

"The birthday boy finally arrives!" Casey cheered, coming over with spread arms.

"Ugh," said Raph with a dramatic eyeroll, but he smiled, and they bumped chests, heads and hands amicably.

"Happy birthday, man," said Casey cheerfully. "How's it feel to be eighteen?"

"Eh." Raph shrugged. "Probably not gonna change much, what with the mutant turtle status. 's not like I'm gonna, dunno, buy a house or get married or whatever. And I doubt Dad's just miraculously gonna let me do what I want."

"Cut him some slack," Casey said, surprising Raphael. "We let him veto on your present and he said it was cool." Casey thought for a moment. "Not his words, obviously."

"Okay, enough with the secrecy already! I sat through an entire day of my stupid brothers giggling conspiratorially, not you too, man."

Casey snickered, grabbed the lip of his shell and shoved him through the garage, around the van, and next to a tarp.

The shape beneath was _very_ recognizable.

Raph dug his heels into the ground, stopping any and all attempts of Casey's to manhandle him, and just froze in place.

Casey patted his shell. "Happy birthday, man," he said again, but this time, he sounded much softer than before.

"Is that—?" Raph said, though he knew. He _knew_. He looked to Casey for confirmation regardless, as if he couldn't believe it. Casey crossed his arms and nodded encouragingly, and Raph took that final last step forward, grabbed the tarp and drew it away.

Seeing the motorcycle was another thing than just knowing it would be there. It wasn't new. But that wasn't what mattered. It was a motorcycle, and it looked awesome, and his family had gotten it for him. All of them!

For the last five years or so Raphael had begged (Father, and Donnie, and occasionally even Leo) to let him have a bike. The reasons why he wasn't allowed to have one were usually along the lines of "You can't drive, my son," or "I can’t start one from scratch, Raphie, I need _resources_ ," and "You can't go around driving a _motorcycle_ topside, Raphael!"

At some point, Raphael had maybe resigned himself to the fact that it would just never happen.

And now here it stood. It had been frankensteined together from multiple different parts (Raphael was positive that with a closer look he would be able to identify them all) and was painted a wonderful, bright, saturated metallic red. His fucking life color.

"Ape and me got the parts, mostly," Casey said, somewhere far, far away from where Raphael was currently at. "Donnie obviously did the most work, uh... Mikey did the paint job. Got an airbrush and everything. I'm surprised he managed to keep it a secret. He was so jazzed about it."

"Leo?" Raph breathed.

"It was his idea, actually," said Casey, and Raph looked over at him with big eyes. Casey grinned. "Yeah he, uh. He came up to me and started asking about whether I thought I could teach you how to drive and shit, and when I asked why he thought that was relevant he said he wanted to get you a bike for your birthday. And from then on it was mostly just getting the parts together. Bit on eBay, April and Donnie checked out some salvage yards..."

"He said it was _your_ idea."

"What?" Casey laughed. "That's a blatant lie, Raph. Nah, I didn't bring it up after that one time I took you for a joyride and Splinter nearly ripped me a new one."

Raph grinned. "That was _so_ awesome."

"Yeah if you like to be on the receiving end of overprotective parents maybe."

Raph scoffed. "I'm always on the receiving end of an overprotective parent," he said, when he finally stepped forward to run his palm over the bright red chassis of his—his!—bike. "I can't believe Dad said yes to this," he whispered. "I'm gonna hug the shit outta him when I get home."

"So," Casey said. "Wanna take her for a spin?"

"Oh hell yeah," said Raph, swinging a leg over the saddle and settling down as if to test it.

"Well," said Casey, turning to the van and opening it. "I did promise Leo and your dad to take you out of the city to do it, so we can't just drive off."

"I guess city traffic sucks for a joyride anyway," said Raph, though now that he sat on his new bike he seemed reluctant to get up.

"Plus we don't want you to get seen," added Casey. "So c'mon, help me load this baby in and then we can be off. You've been cleared until tomorrow night so if worst comes to worst, we can crash at a motel tonight."

Raph grabbed the bike like it was an oversized plush toy. "This is the best birthday _ever_!" he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/fowo__) and [fic tumblr](https://ask-tws.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit short but that just means the sweetness is more condensed.

They drove the van out of the city, pulled over at the first motel they found to park, and unloaded their bikes. With a helmet and a thick leather jacket, Raph looked no more suspicious than any other large guy on a bike when they passed the few cars that were still on the roads.

They rode until the black of night faded to pink-tinted gray.

Raph would've probably left the state and gone on a cross-country roadtrip if Casey hadn't insisted they should head back.

At this hour, nobody was around to see them pull up by their motel again. Raph left his clothes on regardless until Casey unlocked their room and they were safe behind a closed door.

Only then did Raph rip the helmet off his face. "That was amazing!" he exclaimed, still hopped on adrenaline. He'd been skirting the speed limit all night. "That was the best fucking day of my _life_!"

"I'm happy when you're happy, dude," Casey told him, flopping down on his bed and spreading his sore limbs out.

Raph started to strip away his leather gear while still babbling excitedly, and Casey chuckled to himself. Raph liked to play the bad guy but he was so damn excitable. He wore his heart on his sleeve.

Casey rolled onto his side, propping his chin in his hand and smiled at his best buddy. "You hungry?" he asked, interrupting Raph's tirade. Raph thought for a moment, then nodded, and Casey swung his legs off the bed.

"A'ight," he said. "That place across the street was open so I'll go and see what I can find."

"Thanks," said Raph. Casey shut the door on the way out, and Raph fell back on the flimsy bed with his arms spread out and stared at the ceiling. His heart was still pounding, and he realized he was grinning. 

Casey returned a while later with a bucket of fried chicken wings and—a six-pack of beer.

"Oh," said Raph, eyes big, mouth slack. The bad boy had momentarily left him.

"Can't be your birthday without breaking a _few_ rules, eh?" Casey chuckled, tossing Raph a can.

Raph caught it and smiled wide. "I love you, man," he said, and Casey chuckled.

"Love you too, bro."

They arranged their little patio so that nobody could immediately spot them if they walked past, and settled down in the ratty old garden chairs to watch the sunrise.

Casey put his feet up on another chair and opened his beer, holding it out to Raph for a toast. "Happy birthday," he said.

Raph, still holding on to his own unopened can, looked at him and his expression said, "I'm gonna get in so much trouble if someone finds out" and "Wow I really wanna get into that trouble ASAP." Casey snickered, and watched as Raph lifted the latch up and cracked the can open.

Raph gave the beer a little sniff, his snout wrinkling in distaste, and Casey watched with gleeful schadenfreude when Raph downed a first careful swallow. He grimaced, but when he saw Casey was watching he emptied the rest of the can too, and Casey couldn't help but laugh a little, fond of Raph's unerring dedication to seeming badass.

Raph burped out the carbonation and went for the second can.

"Easy there, Red," Casey warned. "Works faster when ya not used to it."

Raph shrugged, wiping his beak. "Donnie says our metabolism works faster than a human's," he said by way of explanation. "'s why we eat so damn much."

"Huh," said Casey, well aware that the guys went through two extra large pizzas per person per meal _easily_. He shrugged. "Makes sense, I guess. You're all pretty big guys."

"Yeah," muttered Raph, who was the only one who didn't fit through April's window by the fire escape anymore. Last time he had tried to squeeze through he'd left scuff marks everywhere and broken a spike. Nobody ever mentioned it. 

"Watch it anyway, yeah? I just don't wanna have to drag your drunk ass back to the lair," Casey chuckled. "I can lift a lot but I think you're out of my league."

Raph flashed him a mean grin that was all teeth. "Obviously," he said proudly.

Casey kicked at him half-halfheartedly. "Fuck you, I'm a solid 8!"

Raph stared at him for a moment and then paled as the joke registered. "I meant your fucking _weight-class_ you absolute jerkass!" he roared, and Casey laughed and evaded the half-hearted grab aimed at him. Messing with Raph was the best. He kinda understood why Mikey did it all the time, it was _so_ easy to push his buttons.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he amended, fighting off Raph's hands. "Dude, you gotta relax. You're my bro. Don't panic so much just because you learned I like dick. Nothing's changed." 

His laughter died down, and he smiled at Raph, but Raph avoided his eyes. Casey's smile faded a bit, and he nudged Raph with the toe of his Converse. "Right? Raph?" 

"Nah of course not," Raph said, and quickly took a drag of his beer and crushed the empty can in his hand. "We're good."

"Okay." Still cautious, Casey settled back. He looked out at the sunrise for a moment, and then added, "If you have any questions..."

Raph made a face. "Nothing I need to know, man."

"Fair."

They sat in silence for a while. Raph fiddled with the can he was holding, breaking off the latch and pushing fingernail scratches all over the aluminium. Something was obviously on his mind, but Casey let him figure it out himself, content to just be staring at the night sky.

Eventually, Raph cleared his throat. "Why, uh," he said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" asked Casey, looking over. "About the bike? Dude I'm not gonna spoil the surprise, who do you think I am?"

"Not that!" sneered Raph with a grimace. "The, uh. The guy thing."

"'Guy thing,'" repeated Casey, rolling his eyes and looking at the sky again. "That I'm into dudes?"

"Yeah."

Casey shrugged. "I mean... I would've, but considering you freaked out when you found out I feel that maybe it's kind of fair that I didn't."

Raph obviously took some offense to that, but he just nursed his beer and said nothing for a while.

"It just surprised me is all," he repeated his little mantra.

"I mean, sure." Casey shrugged again. "You still reacted pretty shitty."

Raph grunted and kept staring down at his beer.

"Sorry," he said eventually. "That was uncool of me."

"'s all good man," said Casey, reaching over to box Raph's arm. "I'm not mad."

"Thanks," said Raph, looking relieved. "I don't want to be an ass, it's just... 's surprised me, is all."

"So you said," said Casey evenly. He truly wasn't mad, but he was still relieved that Raph was self-aware enough to realize he had been a bit uncool about the whole situation. 

Casey took a drag from his beer. "I know you're an idiot sometimes," he said cheerfully, and Raph, without getting up, kicked one leg off his chair and sent Casey tumbling to the floor.

\--

They drank until Casey at some point admitted to being pretty tired and wanting to sleep, so they turned in for the night, blinds closed against the rising sunlight outside.

Casey was exhausted and tired and just a little buzzed and ready to go out like a light, but Raph kept turning on the bed, rustling and muttering and keeping him awake.

"Your mattress as shitty as mine?" asked Casey, who had given up on trying to be comfortable and just gambled on being worn out enough to pass out eventually.

"I can feel my spikes perforating the foam and sticking to the frame," Raph complained. "Fuckin' sucks."

"Just sleep on your plastron," Casey said. "Didn't you say sleeping on your shell sucks, anyway?"

There was rustling in the dark as Raph settled into another position. "Well, yeah, but at home I got like three mattresses with a proper frame, not this shitty thing. And there's like a mold for my shell too because I've been sleeping on 'em for like ten years now or so."

"I can't remember you ever tryin'a sleep on your shell at my place," Casey wondered out loud. 

There was a bout of silence that seemed entirely uncomfortable on Raph's part. "I dun' wanna shred your mattress, man," he muttered eventually.

Casey burst out laughing, propping his body up on one elbow to stare through the darkness over to Raph's half of the small room. "But breaking motel beds is okay?" he asked. 

Raph turned a little bit to stare at him. "Yeah man, I don't care."

"Oh, man. That is fucking hilarious." Casey wiped his eyes, still laughing. "I mean, shit dude, imagine you totally shredding the mattress with your shell, completely on accident, and the fucking _look_ we would get from the personnel when they see. Like, 'holy shit what the fuck did these guys _do_? What kind of nasty shit to they get up to in bed?'"

"What?" snarled Raph, immediately defensive. "'s nothin' like that, asshole!"

"No, but holy shit that would be hilarious. Please shred the bed, Raph, I'm gonna pay for it, I just want to see their reaction when we go there tomorrow and they think we did something super kinky."

A pillow hit him right in the face, toppling him half-over but doing nothing for the fit of laughter he had worked himself into. 

"We didn't do anything!" roared Raph. "'s just my shell being a fucking pain in the ass again!"

"Oh I _bet_ it would be," Casey got out, wheezing. "What kind of fetish would that be, anyway? Oh man I need to consult the internet. Or Mikey, I bet Mikey knows."

"Ya fuckin' suck, Casey!" said Raph. "Shut up already an' let me sleep!"

He turned away, brooding, and Casey set back chuckling. 

In the end, no mattresses were harmed during their stay. Raph slept on his plastron all night, and what little bumps and lumps there were the next morning, he punched out aggressively. Casey continued chuckling over his stupid fucking joke, but Raph had his helmet on from the moment they got up to the moment he entered the sewers, so Casey wasn't super sure if he was only mad, or embarrassed as well.

It was fine either way. Big Red had to learn to deal with shit like that, if he wanted to be a better friend. 

\--

Casey was first through the door of the lair when they finally got back.

“I come bearing gifts!” he announced grandiosely with spread arms, earning curious looks from all three brothers. 

“Aw, what? It’s just Raph!” complained Mikey. “Now I was expecting a gift bear!’”

“That’s—what? That’s not—what?” said Casey, dumbfounded, and Raph snorted and shouldered past him. 

“Ignore him,” he said as he passed his little brother on the couch and tousled his mask tails. “He’s just messing with ya.”

“So how was it?” asked Leo, perched delicately like artistic origami on their pouf because two brothers managed to take up both couches. He unfolded himself to walk up to Raph. ( _Not_ to check if Raph was okay because that would annoy him, just because of general curiosity.) “Did you like your gift?”

Raph wheeled around to him quick enough to make Leo flinch back instinctively, bracing himself for Big Red’s anger—why? what had he done? he had just asked a simple question! was that not allowed anymore?!—and stared at the finger Raph pointed at him.

“This was _your_ idea,” Raph said, poking the finger against Leo’s plastron. “And you made me believe it was Casey’s!”

“Oh,” said Leo, brushing Raph’s hand away. “That’s what you’re mad about?”

“ _Mad_?” parroted Raph. “I’m not _mad_!”

“Then what—” Leo started, and then had the air crushed out of his lungs when Raph suddenly hugged him. “ _Hrk_ ,” said Leo dumbly, glad he had a carapace protecting him because Raph _squeezed_ and Leo could feel his feet lift off the floor too. Raph wasn’t even that much taller, but much, much stronger. 

“Aww, ohmigosh,” crooned Mikey, watching over the back of the couch. “You actually cajoled a hug outta him, wow. See, I told you he’d love it. Leo wasn’t even sure, can you believe it?”

“Raphael, please refrain from contusing your brother,” said Splinter patiently. “I will not allow it—at least not outside of scheduled training.”

“Ha, ha,” said Leo, but he was let down and freed from Raphael’s affections. “Ouch.”

“That’s what you get,” said Raph. “Jackass.”

“Language,” said Splinter and Leo at the same time, and Raph threw up his arms.

“Whatever,” he said, and went to put his backpack to his belongings while Casey managed to get a spot on the couch (because Donnie politely made room for their guest and Mikey knew he would so he didn’t move at all). 

“So,” said Leo, sheepish and wringing his hands a little because he couldn’t help himself. “All went well? You didn’t run into trouble?”

“Relax,” said Casey, waving him off as he reclined into the old couch. “Worst that happened was a busted mattress.”

“What?” asked Leo, confused.

“What?” asked Mikey, perking up.

Raph, coming back to the living room, roared, “That _didn’t happen_!”

Casey laughed to himself. “I just learned a thing or two about shells and spikes and shitty foam mattresses,” he said, winking at Raph who slapped his hand over his face in exasperation. 

Mikey’s eyes went comically wide while. “Did you share a bed?” he asked.

“Are you kidding?” asked Casey. “Where the fuck would I fit? Have you seen how fat this guy is?”

“Hey,” snarled Raph, making a grab for Casey that he evaded by ducking halfway into Donnie’s space, startling him, and Raph and Casey were quick to apologize. 

Mikey shook his head. “Man,” he sighed, “the way you’re going is gonna take like ten more chapters at _least_ , huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mikey is dangerously genre-aware, isn’t he? Couple'a more chapters and he's gonna be talking directly to you.


	5. Chapter 5

Like she had said, April had put dating on the back burner again, exasperated with her lack of success and too overworked to put any effort into her private life. "Men suck," she'd told them. "I don't have time for this bullshit. I'm busy enough with work."

Nobody but Donnie really knew what she was doing, exactly—something with robotics?—but April's job had her busy with a project in its final phase. Her employer (who April usually just called "the asshole") was putting his employees through some serious crunch time. Donnie went to her place occasionally to help her with work and stayed there for a day or two, but the rest of the brothers were left speculating on what the two science nerds were up to.

"They should just build her a robot boyfriend," Mikey said one evening when Casey and him were continuing their Dream Daddy playthrough. 

"Oh god," Casey chuckled. "Every man's worst fucking nightmare. Now the girls really _are_ fucking robots, we stand no chance."

"Why would anyone fuck a robot?!" asked Raph, sitting on the second couch with some knitting. He had been watching Mikey and Casey play, and without being overly antagonistic about it. 

"Why would _anyone_ fuck _anything_ , bro?" said Mikey with a shrug. "I'd fuck a robot."

"Wow, what?" Casey chuckled. "Mikey! You _slut_."

"What, no, not like that!" Mikey shoved at Casey. "They'd have to have a personality I like, and be able to consent! I don't mean like, a mindless sex bot. That'd be _weird_."

"Ugh!" groaned Raph, throwing down his knitting and getting up to the kitchenette to put distance between Mikey and himself. He heard Mikey and Casey laugh and continue the conversation as he rifled through the fridge aimlessly.

He came back when the worst of the aversion had ebbed away, surprised to find Mikey, Casey and even Leo making jokes about sex dolls. Mikey and Casey were obvious, but _Leo_? Raph felt a surge of something like annoyed embarrassment because _Leo_ was the one with the stick up his ass and yet Fearless sat there and made jokes, although the color of his cheeks had darkened so much that his yellow stripes stood out in stark contrast.

"Of course I would," Mikey was saying, and Leo covered his face in terror but laughed, and Casey said something about birthday presents.

" _No_! I'm the one who shares a bunk with the numbnut!" Raph roared. "Are you shitting me?"

"You guys need separate rooms," Casey chuckled.

"Noo, don't make me leave Raph," Mikey lamented, theatrically throwing himself into Raph's arms to nuzzle his plastron lovingly.

"Get offa me, Mike," snarled Raph, shoving him. "You just talked about fucking inanimate objects, I'm not hugging you now! That's fucking disgusting!"

Mikey shoved back at him. " _You're_ fucking disgusting, bro, you don't have to smell your fear and amazement and whatever stinks!"

Before Raph could feel attacked and escalate the situation past playful banter, to everyone's surprise, Leo interjected with something in quick, stern Japanese. Casey didn't understand it but got both brothers to shut up and settle back down immediately.

"Mikey, no species-related insults, we _talked_ about this," Leo continued seriously. "I mean, seriously. What are you, ten?" 

Mikey frowned but apologized to Raphael regardless. Raphael huffed, crossing his arms and brooding.

"I can't leave you alone for one day and already Mikey regresses to species insults?" said Donnie, coming through the door in that very moment. "What's next, 'Donnie's soft because he's a soft-shell, haha'?" 

"I didn't mean like that," Mikey muttered. "I _said_ I'm sorry."

"It's fuckin' fine," growled Raph. "Small turtle, small brain."

" _Raphael_ ," hissed Leo. Raph shrugged and looked away. 

"On that topic, though," Donnie said cheerfully as he was unpacking his duffel in the kitchenette, "Raph, come with me to the lab please?"

Raph, who thought that Donnie was considerably more pleasant company than any other brother right now, got up immediately. "What's up? Need something lifted?"

"Nothing quite as sporty, I'm afraid," said Donnie, waving a few plastic spray bottles at him triumphantly. "I asked April to get me some hair repair products and I need you to be my guinea pig."

There was a pause, and then Raph said, emphatically, "Don. We're, uhm. We're bald."

"Keratin, Raph, hair's made from keratin, as are our shells, _well_ , kinda-sorta." Don finished unpacking and had like ten different containers on the kitchen table now, most of them in shades of pink with happy smiling beautiful women with gorgeous blonde hair on them. "I'm still trying to figure out how to make a shell balm for our needs which means I'm gonna make a few swatches on you and see what works best."

Raph eyed the annoyingly feminine bottles disdainfully. Hair care products, _really_? "No way," he said. "Take Nail Polish over there." He pointed at Mikey, whose nails were, indeed, painted in a bright orange almost always.

"Raphie," said Don softly. "Of all of us, your shell is the most neglected, which means I can see the best results."

"Raph had algae growing on his shell once," Mikey whispered, loudly, to Casey. Casey made a quiet "oooh" sound.

Raph bristled. "It's hard to reach, okay, and the spikes don't help—"

"Dude, I offer you shell scrubs like _every_ week!" Mikey said. "I do Leo, too, and you can basically see your reflection in his shell!" 

"He does a very good job," Leo agreed, who was undoubtedly the most uptight about his appearance, so this was saying something. Mikey beamed happily at him and got a smile in return.

"Well, like I said, for my research the terrible state of your scutes is optimal," Don said. "I would just use my own shell, but, well. The genetic makeup of mine is too different compared to yours."

Raph wasn't even sure why he was suddenly embarrassed. But something between Mikey and Casey snickering and Leo looking so damn proper, while Donnie was completely oblivious to how uncomfortable he was making him, was too much. 

"No!" he said, and Don was already opening his mouth for a verbal list of why they needed to do this and that Raph was being irrational, but Raph turned around and left; out of the lair, slamming the door behind him. 

Everyone sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment. 

"Did I say something wrong?" asked Donatello, uncertainty thick in his voice in a way that it never ever was when he was speaking about science and computers and robots. 

"No, no," said Leo quickly. 

Mikey said, "He's just being a big baby again."

"I think you just spooked him," Casey amended. "I think he didn't realize that all of you think his shell is in a shitty state."

"I offered—" Mikey began, and Leo sighed, "Should I talk to him?"

"No offense, Leo, but I think your perfect shell is the last thing he wants to see right now." Casey tossed him the joy-con he was still holding. "I'll go."

"Yeah that's probably for the best." Leo frowned unhappily. "He listens to you, at least."

"See, that's where you're wrong," said Casey. "'s really more about listening to _him_."

\--

Casey found Raph not far from the lair, proving his theory that Raph had bailed more out of desperation to flee the conversation than any real ill will towards his brothers.

"Hey man," Casey said, lifting himself up to the pipes Raph was sitting on. 

Raph grunted some acknowledgement but didn't react otherwise. 

"You gave Dee quite the scare," Casey continued casually. "He thought he did something wrong."

"What?" Raph looked up now, uncertainty in his eyes. "No, I just—"

"Got a bit too much there, huh? Having three brothers gang up on you."

Raph nodded and shrugged at the same time. "I mean, I dunno. What's fucking next, _make-up_?"

"Dude," said Casey. "Dee doesn't want to play dress up, he's just working with what he's got." He leaned forward to look Raph in the face. "I don't think it ever even occurred to him that you might think this is emasculating."

"I don't—" Raph started, raising his voice to yell his protests, but Casey grabbed him by the arm. 

"I get it, man," he said sternly. "No reason to yell at me for."

Raph deflated a little. "Sorry," he muttered. 

"Apologize to Dee, not me," said Casey. "He didn't mean anything by it. He's just a big nerd and wanted to start a new project."

"Yeah," muttered Raph. He had obviously come to this conclusion himself already. 

"I promise you a few hair products will not make you want to wear dresses," Casey chuckled. "Though of course, even _if_... nothing wrong with that."

"Ugh," groaned Raph, burying his face in his hands. 

"Hey, wanna get out of here?" Casey said, giving Raph an amicable punch to the shoulder. "I'm off tomorrow, we can hang a little. Let's go watch the game and get something to eat after."

Raph heaved a sigh between his palms, but then nodded. "Yeah, sounds good," he said and got up to leave, but Casey grabbed him. 

"Whoa there, Raph," he said. "Go back and apologize to Dee first. And tell Leo where you're going or he's gonna have your shell when you get back home late."

Raph frowned at him. "Who are you, my mom?"

"Nah dude, I'm just trying to make your life a little easier for you."

Raphael grimaced but had to admit to himself that Casey was right. He sighed dramatically. "Alright," he groaned. "Jeez."

\--

Donnie was in the kitchenette when Raph skulked back into the lair, followed by Casey. As soon as it was clear that Raph was actually going to talk to his brother, Casey veered to the right and went to sit with Mikey in the living room.

"Hi," Donnie said when Raph came near. 

"Hey," muttered Raph. 

Nobody said anything more. Donnie set the water kettle to boil, and went to get their coffee out of one of the overhead cabinets. 

"Oh," said Raph, "hey, uhm, let me—" He went to grab past Donnie into the cupboard. 

"Thanks," said Donnie, stepping aside. 

Donnie always said Raph made the best coffee in the family, so Raph was always happy to do it for him. He had a simple trick for it, too: Donnie liked his coffee strong, but their brothers and Dad thought it was unhealthy. Well, Raph thought that was _stupid_. Donnie was smart enough to know what was good for him, so he always made him his coffee the way he liked best: Five generous spoonfuls and the water cooled just below boiling.

When Raph was done with the little ritual, Donnie accepted the mug (his favorite!) from his brother's hands. "Thanks," he said again. He took a sip. 

Raph drummed his fingers on the counter. 

"I'm, uh—" he began. 

Donnie shook his head. "It's fine, Raphie," he said softly. 

Raph shook his head. "No. It's really not. I don't—I'm always, I... Whenever I'm—"

"You needn't explain," said Donnie. "I know. Or, well, maybe I _don't_ , but I also don't need to understand. If _you_ understand, that's much more important. And you do, I know you do. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"Well," said Raph, lifting his chin defiantly, "still owe you an apology for running out on ya like I did. So. Yeah. I'm—I'm sorry."

"I appreciate it," said Donnie. "I'm sorry for spooking you, too. I should've considered you might not wanna help under, uhm, the given circumstances."

"Right," said Raph, rubbing his neck. "Well, uhm... Hey, can you do me a favor and tell Leo I'm gonna go hang with Casey for a bit—I'll be back later."

"You were supposed to tell _Leo_!" called Casey from where he clearly overheard the conversation from the living room. 

"Tell me what?" shouted Leo from inside his room, because the walls were only paper. 

Raph groaned. "I'm leaving for a bit!" he barked towards Leo's room. "Be back later!"

"Children! Indoor voices, _please_!" hollered Splinter. 

\--

Of course it was possible to dress Raph up in a trench coat and fedora to make him blend in. But he would always look like he was wearing an entire football armor underneath and there was just no way of smuggling him into human spaces without turning some heads. 

Luckily it was very easy for a ninja to smuggle a human into the rafters.

The game was good, and having some quality bro time with Casey was good, too. Afterwards, because Raph was always hungry, Casey got them some good burgers, not the shit the brothers went dumpster diving for, and they settled down on Casey's rooftop to eat.

"Y'know," Casey said apropos of nothing. "I feel sorry for Mikey." There had been a stretch of comfortable silence that was spent eating and staring at New York's skyline.

"Yeah he's pretty pitiable," said Raph with a grin, making Casey laugh and choke on his fries. 

"Not like that, asshole," he said. "I mean the entire dating thing. He seems to take all this really seriously."

"Yeah," said Raph slowly, scooping up ketchup with a couple of fries because Raph never just ate one, he always ate a handful. "He does."

"Like when it was just him hasslin’ April I thought it was kinda cute he was so curious and supportive, but now I feel like _I_ let him down..."

"Nah dude," said Raph with a shrug. "Don't worry about it, there's really nothing to let him down about."

"What?" asked Casey. "But—"

"Stop kiddin' yourself, Casey," said Raph dismissively. "Mikey like, wants a girlfriend. Hold hands, go on dates, that kinda stuff. The whole romance schlock. Well he'd better face the facts: It's not gonna happen." Raph took a long drag of soda and burped out the carbonation. "Mutant turtle and all."

"Dude," muttered Casey. "When you put it like that, it sounds really depressing."

"Yeah well. Ain't no changing that. All we got is each other."

"And you're just gonna be okay with that?" asked Casey. "That's a really bleak outlook on life, man."

Raph shrugged. He went about shredding the plastic lid of his cup into tiny pieces. "Honestly, dude?" he said softly, staring out at the city. "I don't really care."

"Well but Mikey does, apparently!" said Casey. "And what about Leo and Don?"

Raph gave him a look. "Are _also_ mutant turtles."

"Yeah, but you can't speak for them. Everyone gets to decide that stuff for themselves, Raph."

Raph scoffed. "Fine. But you know how Leo gets. I'm pretty sure he's hellbent on being a celibate monk."

Casey had to chuckle a little because, yeah, that sounded a lot like Leo. "Fine," he allowed. "But what about Don?"

"I can't even begin to understand what's going on in his head," said Raphael, not ill-mindedly. "But he doesn't really talk about anything like that. I never really got the impression that he's, uh, _into_ that kinda stuff."

Casey frowned. "So, what, you think just because he's neurodivergent he's also ace?"

"He's _what_?" asked Raph with wide eyes.

"Not feeling sexual attraction," Casey elaborated. "'s a thing, apparently, not that _I'm_ the person to talk to about this kinda stuff because I like my sex plenty and with anyone, thanks."

Raph, whose knowledge of sexual attractions started with hetero and ended with gay, hesitated. "We're not into labels," he said then, slowly, because they were moving into uncharted territory fast.

"Ah," said Casey and nodded. "Of course. Mikey came up with that, yeah?" 

"Yeah, a long time ago," said Raph. "I mean, on top of being mutants, you know how he is. I probably called him gay because he played with a Barbie or something."

"Probably," said Casey good-naturedly. 

"I know, I know, not cool," muttered Raph sullenly, and Casey slapped his shell amicably. 

"You make an effort, man, that's more than most people," he said, giving Raph a shake. "I'm proud of you."

"Oh, god, please shut up," said Raph, shoving his hand away. 

Casey snorted a laugh through his nose but settled back. Raph emitted the typical unease of having to deal with a compliment he didn’t know how to accept. Best to not rub it in. 

"So, okay, we're not labeling you guys, fine, I get it," Casey continued and took a drink of his beer. "But don't that kinda suck still? For Mikey, I mean. Kinda robs him of any chance to talk about it, don't it?"

"Yeah well _I_ don't wanna talk about it to begin with," grunted Raph. 

"Seriously? Now I just feel even _worse_ for Mikey," Casey said, throwing his arms up a little. "No wonder he loves dating sims so much. Mutant turtle _and_ his brothers shun him? He must feel so shitty constantly!"

"Yeah but like, that's _exactly_ what I mean: He better get used to it sooner than later," growled Raph. He crunched away on the last bits of fries at the bottom of his container and even went so far as to lick away the rest of ketchup. Casey wordlessly handed him the rest of his own fries and Raph accepted them thankfully. 

"That sucks," said Casey. 

"Yep," agreed Raph. "Reality does that."

"I _bet_ there's people out there who'd fuck mutant turtles," mused Casey, and Raph almost choked.

"Are you _insane_?" he wheezed, spitting out bits of food. "Have you _seen_ us?"

"Aw c'mon," said Casey cheerfully. He'd been serious, but Raph was too easy to tease. "Have you _not_ seen Shape of Water?"

"That's a chick flick," said Raph. 

"Yeah _and_ she fucks the fish man," said Casey, and Raph grimaced. "Oh grow up, Raph. I'm bringing it over for movie night next time, so you can educate yourself a little. Mikey will love it and by the way, so you will you, you big softie. Twenty bucks says you'll cry at the end."

"I'm not above pushing you off this roof, Casey," said Raph, and Casey laughed.

"Anyway," he said. "I mean, yeah, you're big and green and only have three fingers. But everyone who knows you can _see_ you're human."

"But we're _not_ ," said Raph, and it was both the problem and defense at once. They were turtles, and proudly so, but it also was why they lived in secrecy in the sewers. "People give you and April shit for _your_ skin color, what makes you think they'd ever accept _ours_? Plus the whole—" He gestured about himself; the shell, the beak, the bald head. "—all of _this_. And my Dad's a _rat_. How do you bring a date home to _that_?"

"Eh." Casey shrugged. "You're big and tough. Bet you can pull off the _Dirty Dancing_ move without even trying. That's gonna be good enough for someone out there. People are down with weirder shit, you know."

"God, _please_ shut up," said Raph, looking terrified. But clearly _something_ had hit a nerve, because he fidgeted in a sort of embarrassed excitement. "'s not right on _so_ many levels."

Casey chuckled. He had been serious about it all. Of course he knew better than to be naive, but also the idea of people not accepting the turtles because of what they looked like was something that made him angry to his very core. And it wasn't a laughing matter, really.

But Raph was _so_ easy to rattle, it was hard not to.

"Girls would _dig_ you, Raph," Casey said. 

Raph groaned, shielding his eyes behind a hand. "You _suck_ , Jones." 

"I'm serious!" Casey laughed. "Who says you couldn't find a girlfriend who's willing to overlook the green for a bit of that broad tongue?"

"What?" asked Raph, petrified, against _all_ better judgment, because he couldn't believe he was having this conversation. 

Casey chuckled, spread his index and middle finger out over his mouth and stuck his tongue out between them. He waggled his eyebrows.

Raph punched him in the arm, all sorts of emotion plain as day on his face.

Casey yelped, and laughed, and cradled his arm. "I'm telling you," he said, nudging Raph's knee with his foot. "These days? People are thirsty for almost _everything_. Never heard of Bad Dragon?" 

"That sounds like a shitty video game," grunted Raph warily. 

Casey chuckled a bit. "Nah, it's like... It's a website where you can buy like, uh, anthro dildos, I guess you'd call them? They're modeled after aliens and dragons and stuff."

Raph went rigid with horror and red with embarrassment. "And you know this _why_?" he snapped. 

"Don't think too much about it because I'm pretty sure you don't _really_ wanna know," said Casey cheerfully. "What I'm trying to tell you is that people are more open about shit than you think. I'm not saying it's not an issue for everybody, but just like me and April, there's bound to be people who'll accept you for what you are." 

Raph grunted and said nothing for a while, mulling it over in his head. They finished what was left of their dinner. They listened to the city beneath them, Casey nursing his beer and Raph kicking his legs out over the ledge.

"Casey," he said finally. "Uhm..."

Casey took one look at his tense expression and snickered. "Oh shit, here we go," he said cheerfully. "What?"

Raph scowled. "Shut up! I just... Look, it's kind of—I don't know how to say it."

"When's _that_ ever stopped you?" teased Casey, who appreciated Raph for his bluntness. The uncertainty in Raph's eyes made him ease up a little though. "Just say it. If it's stupid, I'll let you know."

"Asshat." Raph kicked at Casey's feet, but feebly. "So. Well. I mean. Uhm. You... you fuck guys."

Casey exhaled. " _Yep_ ," he said, popping the P. 

Raph very pointedly didn't look at him. "How... _Why_?"

"God, Raph..." Casey dragged his hands down his face. "What kind of a question is that? 's it really bother you that much what I do with my dick?"

Raph huffed irritably. "No," he said determinedly. "You can fuck whoever you want. 's just... I'm... tryna understand, I guess."

Casey watched his face for a moment, gauging the emotions displayed there. Raph managed to stare back at him for a moment or two, but then quickly lowered his eyes. Casey shrugged. "There's not much to understand though, is there?" he said. "Guys make my dick hard. End of story."

Raph peered uncertainly back at him. "What; that's it, that's all?"

"I mean... yeah, that's really it. It's really not rocket science."

"Huh," said Raph, and stared back out over the city. Casey kept watching him, and Raph fidgeted.

"Yeah?" prompted Casey. "C'mon, I know you wanna ask."

Raph grunted and rubbed his beak. There was a stretch of silence. Raph kicked his legs. People below them cheered and shouted, car horns honked. It was a perfectly normal night. Casey threw a pebble at a curious pigeon. 

Raph, finally, heaved an exasperated breath and rubbed his beak. "What's it like?" he muttered. 

"Ha!" exclaimed Casey, and Raph frowned unhappily. "So you _are_ curious."

"I mean, yeah, of course!" said Raph with a grimace. "'s not like I can just, I dunno, look it up!"

"You literally can, though," laughed Casey and nudged him with the toe of his Converse. Raph grunted and slapped his foot away. "Aw come on! Don't go pretending you've never watched porn on me!"

"Yeah but not—" Raph gestured wildly, vaguely at Casey.

Casey, because he was a jerk, laughed some more. "What, with me in it? I hope not, I don't remember uploading any!" He danced away from the grab Raph directed at him and snickered. 

"I meant gay fucking porn!" Raph roared, half-heartedly throwing his empty soda cup at Casey that he punched away mid-air. "God why are you such a pain!"

"Because you are _so easy_ ," said Casey, snickering. Raph had more garbage to throw at him that Casey deflected. "Oi! Keep throwing shit at me and you're not gonna hear about my amazing sex life!"

"Yeah don't bother, I regret askin'!"

"No you don't, you big fat liar, you _are_ curious!"

"Maybe I'll just fuckin' _google_ it!"

"Oh, _would_ you? Should I leave you _alone_ with that for a hot second?"

"Casey, I _swear_ —!"

"Fine, fine." Casey was still chuckling, but without projectiles and too peeved to start a brawl, Raph was just staring at him with big eyes and an utmost uncomfortable expression on his face. Casey couldn't help but snort at him, but he took pity and, hands up in surrender, settled back next to Raph on the roof. 

"Asshole," said Raph, for good measure.

"That's where the dick usually goes," said Casey cheerfully, relishing when Raph blanched. "What, too technical?"

Raph grunted, unable to get a word out. 

Casey let him steep in that discomfort for a moment, then he shrugged. "Personally, I think it's a bit easier," he said, and could see tension drain from Raph upon the somewhat reasonable, non-TMI answer. 

"Easier," parroted Raph, "than fucking a girl? What?"

"I mean..." Casey rubbed his neck. "April wasn't totally wrong when she said gay hookups are easier, y'know? Basically you just ask if someone's down to fuck and if he is, great! And if not, you go on with your life and ask the next guy. I can appreciate that, and I don't think I'd do that to a girl, yeah? Feels dickish."

"Aren't girls emancipated enough these days to just want to fuck too?" asked Raph.

"Oh don't you try to make me the bad guy in this!" Casey warned with a wag of his finger. "'course they are. I'm just saying, I enjoy sex with guys for how easy it is. 'Hey, can I suck your dick? Yeah? Cool.' Done."

Raph squinted at him. "There's no way it's that easy."

Casey smiled knowingly at him. "Can be, if you know where to look, my friend." 

Raph scowled unhappily at him but shouldered through his discomfort. "So... That date you went on, that was like that?"

"I mean, kinda." Casey emptied his beer and shrugged as he put the bottle away. "He asked if I was DTF and I was like, sure man. And then we got talking and found out we both liked hockey, so we thought we'd watch a game together. So instead of a quick hookup for sex I had myself a classic date with an outing and food. I don't usually do that, but it was nice." 

"And that's it, there's no..." Raph gestured vaguely, "uh, aftermath, no fallout or somethin'?"

"Nah man. We both knew what we wanted. And I don't usually go for the same dude twice because that's just a gateway for things getting complicated, y'know?"

"Not really," said Raph sourly. 

"Point taken." No second dates for mutant turtles, that much had been established. No first ones, either, really. Casey frowned a little, but because Raph had no immediate follow-up questions, they lapped into another round of silence that was only broken when Raph's phone chimed in his pocket. 

He took it out, swiped the lock screen away and grimaced. "Leo wants me home," he announced. 

"Yeah, 's gettin' late, I should probably hit the hay," said Casey, rightning himself and stretching where he sat. 

"Yeah." Raph pocketed his phone and they both remained sitting where they were for a moment.

Casey didn't need a PhD in psychology to know when Raph was brooding, so he turned to him and looped his arm around his neck, tugging him towards himself. "You good, man?” he asked. “I'm sorry for giving you shit. You know I'm just fucking with you, yeah?"

"Yeah man," said Raph with a shrug. "'s all good."

"You ain't sayin' something though, bro," said Casey. "What's up?"

Raph looked at him, really looked at him for a long moment. His eyes were dark and warm in the lights of the city, and though Casey was pretty good at reading Raph's emotions, he wasn't entirely sure what was going on in Big Red's head right that moment. He just smiled a little, hoping he was conveying openness and the trust between them, and gave him time to sort through his thoughts. 

"Are you—" Raph said finally, and paused, and shrugged a little. "Are you _okay_?"

If it hadn't been for the pregnant silence and the abyss of emotions behind Raphael's eyes before, Casey might have shrugged off that question. But he knew Raph: Punching was easy and straightforward. Putting emotions into words was not. 'Are you okay' was the best he could do for something that was much more.

"With being into guys?" he asked, and Raph nodded a little. "Yeah. Don't worry about it. I'm not having any identity crisises here or anythin'."

"Crises," corrected Raph, who lived his whole life with grammar-and-spelling-correcting Donatello.

Casey rolled his eyes. "Yeah I ain't having one of those either," he said. "But thanks for actually asking, I guess. 's kinda cute."

Raph bristled because, of course, being called _cute_ needed immediate and vocal protest, but Casey was quicker. 

"I think you're hanging on too much to the idea that being some sort of queer is gonna put you through some kind of identity crisis, dude. I've never had that, you know?" Casey jostled Raph a little. "I’m into guys, and girls too by the way, that hasn’t changed. ‘s not like I have _cancer_."

"I get it, I'm an asshole." Raph sighed, annoyed. "I said I'm sorry."

"It's _fine_ , Raph, don't take everything so damn seriously." Casey leaned forward to put himself into Raph's view even when he was looking away. "Look, I know that... for a lot of people this kinda stuff is a big deal, yeah? And like years and years of soul searching and worrying and identity issues. I just..." He shrugged exaggeratedly and stared out over the city. "I guess for me it was never weird, so I never had a problem with it, you feel?"

"Not really," said Raph, whose baseline of existence was _weird_. 

"Yeah point taken," said Casey. "Anyway... I _am_ okay, and I'm not _mad_ at you. And as long as you don't suddenly feel the urge to fuck guys, you're fine too, right? Don't worry too much about it."

Raph shrugged. "Yeah," he said. Casey was right of course—but somehow that didn't help the weird feeling in Raph's stomach. 

\--

Raph had hoped to get to bed unseen, but Mikey was still in the living room playing Zelda. He looked up to say hi when Raph entered, and didn't mention earlier at all.

Instead, he said, "How was your date?" 

Raph stopped halfway through a step, almost losing his balance. "What?"

"Ice hockey and burgers?" said Mikey. "'s what Casey's date did. Is he romancing you? Are you gonna kiss? Ohmigosh did you already kiss? Tell me everything!" 

"Michel, don't make me hurt ya," said Raph, frozen in place with terror.

Mikey snickered and turned back to his game. He didn't seem to think anything of it, but Raph felt like someone had tarred his tongue. He almost tripped over his own feet as he fled towards their bunk, hurriedly climbing in and turning his back to the lair to stare at the wall. 

It hadn't been a date, _obviously_. Burgers and a game wasn't a _date _.__

__But if it had been for Casey and his date—who said that it wasn't for Casey and Raph?_ _

__What turned 'hanging out' into a _date_?_ _

__How did _any_ of these things work?_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what the general consensus is about the 2007 movie. I personally love it -- especially because of Casey. Chris Evans gives him a softness that I really think he deserves. Casey's always been emotionally intelligent in Mirage; rash and violent but also very soft. (One word: Shadow.) I feel like that got lost over the years a little, but 07 Casey brought a lot of that back. And it shows so much in his friendship with Raph.*
> 
> When forming their relationship for this fic, 07 was a great inspiration. (And the only reason why "Black Betty" is an OTP song for me.)
> 
> * (Not cool though: how it's played for laughs that Raph falls asleep in that one scene. Ohh I hate it when emotional vulnerability gets played for laughs!!)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oop i'm late. sorry about that! but here's chapter 6, which is one of my personal favorites. its core was one of the first things I ever wrote for this fic, and blatantly shows off one of my favorite brother relationships among the four. who might it be?! read to find out!

6

Casey made good on his promise. 

It wasn't even his damn turn to pick a movie, it was April's, but the moment he mentioned _The Shape of Water_ , she threw up her arms and exclaimed, "Yes! Of _course_!"

Raph groaned theatrically, especially when Mikey was super excited about it. 

"Don't be a baby, you like GDT," said Leo. 

"I like _Pacific Rim_ and _Hellboy_!" sighed Raph. "Not this shit."

"Didn't you cry at the end of _Pan's Labyrinth_?" Donnie mused, rubbing his chin. Mikey snickered. Raph grimaced. 

"It's a good movie," Casey insisted, kicking against his knee. "Stop being a douche. You can make us watch _Godzilla_ when it's your turn."

"Alright alright," muttered Raph sourly, and settled into the far corner of the couch, bowl of popcorn aggressively hogged in his lap. 

Turned out _all_ four turtles ended up crying, some more than others (and some clearly more comfortable with it than others). Mikey had crept into April's arms for comfort and kept wiping at his eyes but was _ecstatic_. He would not stop talking about fish man dick, a topic that unfortunately was weird ( _scientific_ ) enough for Donatello to immediately jump onto the bandwagon. Leo looked like he was trying very hard to tune out the two brothers on both his sides talking over him, and tried to steer the conversation towards the beautiful message of the movie.

Needless to say it didn't work.

"Not gonna lie, I would probably fuck the Fish Man," said Mikey, making April laugh.

"Amphibian," Donnie corrected automatically, because that was apparently the only part of that statement that he thought needed correcting.

Leo was exasperated enough to roll his eyes at them both. "Is that honestly the only thing you took from this?" he asked Mikey. "Is there anything you _wouldn't_ sleep with?"

Mikey looked up at the ceiling in thought, and when an answer didn't come to him immediately, Raph groaned. "I don't even want to know anymore," he said, wiping tears away from his eyes like other people might approach a punching bag. He tried very hard not to sniff, which only made him sound congested. "Wouldn’t even be a comfort anymore at this point."

"Nobody is safe from Magic Mike," Mikey said cheerfully. He didn't tell them that he could come up with a lot of things, because admitting to that wasn't nearly as fun as messing with his emotionally constipated brothers, all three of them. "I'm not gonna exclude anyone in case I change my mind, you know?"

"So, what, you're pan?" Casey asked. "Just don't matter?"

"We're not into labels, Casey," Mikey lectured him with a raised finger, tutting.

"It's always tricky to apply human terms when you're not really the target audience," Donnie added, and Mikey nodded along emphatically. 

"This again!" said Casey, sounding a little disbelieving. "You're _very obviously_ human."

"Eeh," said Donnie with a so-so motion of his hand. "I mean I'm not gonna _disagree_ , but I would say at this point that's more of an ethical question than a biological one."

"Should we watch _I, Robot_ next, as a refresher on the whole humanity discourse? Or maybe _Chappie_?" asked April. "Because I'm always down for cute robots."

"Oh, I love that movie," said Donnie. "Whose turn is it next?"

Casey watched them all, bewildered. "Don't we all _agree_ you're human?" he asked. "You're not seriously giving me shit about this, are you?"

"Can't really be human with just three fingers and no spine, jerkass," said Raph with a shrug, arms crossed in front of his plastron.

"Say that to any person who's ever been born with some sort of deformity and watch 'em sock you, dude," argued Casey. 

Raph shrugged nonchalantly in a way that clearly said, _I'd like to see them try_. 

"Look at it this way, Casey," said Leo. "Telling us we're human is a bit like... like someone saying your skin color doesn't matter. Of course in a best case scenario, it wouldn't! But as things are, it does."

"Oh." Casey straightened a little, thought about that, then rubbed his neck and nodded. "Damn," he said. "That—yeah, okay. That makes sense."

"In other words, you're racist, you human prick," said Raph with a grin, and Casey kicked him, and Raph kicked him back, and they spent the rest of the night pointing out every time Casey was or wasn't racist until the initial argument was forgotten amidst the obscurities of the inside joke.

\--

Fairy lights and a lonely lamp in the kitchen aside, the lair was dark. Topside, it was daylight, but that was of little consequence in the sewers. 

Raph listened to their home. Mikey in his bunk below was snoring a little. Dad was actually snoring pretty loudly all the way on the other side of the lair. Leo was so still he might as well have been dead. Donnie wasn't asleep; Raph could hear the very faint clacking of a keyboard. Had Raph himself been asleep, it would have been a perfectly normal night.

But Raph was awake. Usually he had no problems falling asleep; between keeping Mikey in check all day and sparring with Leo, Raph was usually pretty worn out when he finally hit the hay. 

Recently though, questions kept him awake, and Raph didn't seem to find any answers. Well, that wasn't really news though, was it?

The brother who had all the answers was, and had always been, Donatello.

Raph very carefully lowered himself down to the floor as to not wake Mike but his littlest brother didn't even stir. Thank fuck for small mercies; Mikey had a sixth sense for everything Raphael and would usually pop up whenever Raph wanted it _least_.

Raph stalked through the dark tunnels to Donnie's lab. The door was ajar. The lights were out, only the screens were illuminating his work space.

Raph pushed the door open with his foot and shouldered his way inside. "Hey, Donnie," he said softly.

Donnie flinched a little and blinked at him owlishly. "Oh, hi Raphie," he said, turning back to his work. "Can't sleep?"

"Yeah," muttered Raph, carefully tip-toeing through the lab until he had reached Don's proximity. He peered over his shoulder, trying to see if he could decipher what Don was doing, but besides him—probably?— coding something or other, Raph had no idea what was happening. "Mikey keeps farting," he added, which earned him a little snicker. It made him calm down a little.

"Feel free to hang if you want company," said Donnie, without looking up or even stopping to type. He was quick; he had long figured out how to make the most of his particular anatomy and built his own keyboards accordingly. 

Raph watched for a moment, gaze stuck on his brother's hands. Donatello's fingers were long and nimble and almost dainty; very different from Raph's own, which were strong and broad across the palm. Don's fingernails grew into claws quickly, so he always kept them filed short and neat. Raph, who was just as prone to getting claws, mostly just chewed or broke them off. 

Raph turned away, staring at Donnie's work table. Spare parts and tools were scattered across in Purple's Organized Chaos. Raph thought he recognized a microwave among the rubble and maybe parts of their old toaster but he couldn't be super sure; he didn't know how kitchenware looked under their shiny aluminium or plastic chassis.

"You shouldn't sit in the dark like this," he said. "'s gotta be hell on your eyes."

"I have a blue filter installed on the monitor and in my glasses, the eyestrain is really reduced to a minimum," said Donnie, still not turning away or stopping what he was doing. "But I appreciate your concern."

Raph grunted.

They both were silent for a while.

Raph took a deep breath. "Can I... Can we talk for a sec?" he muttered.

Donnie peered back towards Raph. "Of course," he said. "Anytime."

Raph nodded, looking at Donnie for a moment before turning away and starting to pace in the limited space he had between the tables and machinery.

Donnie turned back to his coding to give him space. Raphael didn't function well under a microscope. He heard Raph shuffle along behind him until the steps eventually stopped. Donnie typed a little slower, dividing his attention.

Raph took another breath. "Remember when we watched _Shape of Water_ on Friday and, uh... And Mikey was being a pain about wanting to fuck the Fish Man..."

"Amphibian," Donnie corrected automatically.

Raph made a face. "Whatever," he said. "What I mean is... the.... the fucking, the—Casey asked if he was... _something_ , and Mikey was like, we're not into labels—"

Donnie stopped typing and looked up. He pushed his glasses aside and rubbed his eyes before swiveling his chair towards Raph. "Pan?" he asked calmly.

Raph looked relieved and tense at the same time. "That, yeah."

Donnie nodded and waited.

Raph fidgeted with a screwdriver on Donnie's workstation. "I, uh..." he muttered. "I don't know what that means."

"It's an abbreviation for pansexual," Donnie elaborated. 

Raph made a face. "What, you wanna fuck _pans_?" he growled.

"Please don't play dumber than you are, Raphael, just because you're uncomfortable and antagonistic behavior feels comfortable," Donnie said simply.

Raphael froze, then breathed for a moment. "Sorry," he said finally.

Donnie nodded. "Pan is Greek and means _all_ ," he said, then rubbed his snout and checked his coffee mug, only to find it empty. His face scrunched up disappointedly. "The dictionary definition is, if memory serves me right, that someone's sexual interest is not limited by gender."

Raph stared at him without actually turning to face him. "That's a thing?"

"Yes," said Donnie, because that was the answer to the question.

There was a stretch of silence. 

"Bit more information for the intellectually challenged among us?" Raph prompted impatiently.

"Antagonistic again, Raph," Donnie told him, and Raph groaned and shrugged and finally, nodded. 

"Well, Raph, attraction," Donnie continued, "can be experienced for someone of the opposite gender, which is the most common, or someone's own, or none, or all of them."

Raph stood and let that register for a moment. Then he scoffed. "That's like, so generic it's like saying nothing at all, Dee."

"I mean..." Donnie rubbed his chin. "I guess." He sighed and got up. "Accompany me to the kitchen and I'll explain a bit more," he offered, pushing a few dirty plates and mugs into Raph's hands because he knew Raph felt better having something to do while talking about difficult things. It was something they had in common.

So they ventured through the dark lair to their kitchen, and Raph busied himself with the dishes and setting up water to make his brother a coffee with their old, worn-out French Press. (The brothers already knew what they would give Donatello for _his_ eighteenth birthday: a fully automatic coffee machine. —A broken one, of course, because disassembling and fixing things was Donnie's favorite thing.)

Donatello sat at the table and immediately found something new to fiddle with. Every place he would sit had some project or other in arm's reach. "Where's this coming from, anyway?" he asked. "You clearly have a distaste for Mikey, er, elaborating on his sexual preferences like he does."

Raph sucked on his teeth. "Jus' wanted to know what he was babbling about," he said. "And I'm not gonna ask _him_ about it."

"So..." Donnie paused for a moment. "This has nothing to do with you and Casey?"

Raph stiffened visibly. "What?"

"Mikey told me," Donatello said. 

Raph was frozen where he stood. "Told you _what_?"

"Uh..." Donnie leaned back, looking at the ceiling as if he had to concentrate to remember. "Well," he said, a bit sheepish. "In his words: That you're going through a self-discovery phase and that you're probably realizing you're gay now that Casey is out as bi and he wasn't sure whether to help or not, and he also said that he thought this was really unfair that you of all people just so happen to have a best friend you can get together with and he doesn't—"

"What?" said Raph again, more desperately this time. Where the fuck did Mikey even get these ideas? And then of course he'd run around blabbing it all out! Raph would _pulverize_ him—

Oh...

Oh _no_. 

If Mikey had told _Donnie_ , did that mean _Donnie_ had told _Leo_? Oh god, but that would mean _Leo_ had told _Dad_ —now they _all_ knew and Raph wasn't even sure what they all _thought_ they knew because how could _they_ know if he didn't know himself—

Donatello looked at him. He adjusted his glasses. "Look at me, Raph," he said carefully, right over what was quickly becoming a panic attack. "Breathe. In—and out." 

He accompanied that with helpful gestures of his hands, and it got Raph calmed down enough to concentrate on his breathing. Donatello monitored him for a moment longer to make sure his big brother had himself under control.

"I _haven't_ told Leo, if that's what you're worried about. I'm a mutant, not a monster," he said then. "And don't blame Mikey either. He's just worried."

"About what?" asked Raph, trying to breathe into his tummy like Dad had taught him. He was angry and jittery and scared.

"About you, you big dummy," Don chided with a soft smile. "Stuff like that is a big deal, right?"

"Stuff like _what_?!" snapped Raph. "What are we even talkin' about anymore?!"

"The whole—" Donnie gestured vaguely toward the world at large. "—identity thing, I guess. We have it hard enough as it is with being mutant turtles. Consciousness—that is to say, experiencing human emotions—is really just the cherry on the proverbial shit sundae, as they say." 

He shrugged a little. "I want to say it's not a big deal but I understand that the issue rests on multiple layers of socio-cultural context. If we accept we exist beyond introspection, we must also accept all external influences on the topic."

Raph stared at him, mentally unpacking that, or trying to. Donatello cleared his throat, a little sheepishly. "What I mean is—" he said mildly. "Whatever terms you come to are going to be fine, obviously. I guess we just worry..." 

He paused, thought for a moment, went back to tinkering. "I guess we worry _you_ don't know that. You're always so hard on yourself. You're almost as bad as Leo. And _he_ meditates daily."

Raph breathed for a few moments longer. Donatello let him, giving him space as he sat and worked on his little project in silence. 

Behind them, the water boiler clicked off after having done its duty. And because Donnie couldn't let any electronics in the lair be left untampered with, it announced in a recording of Donnie's voice, "Water's done! You're _welcome_."

Raph was glad to have something to do with his hands. He turned toward the kitchenette, grabbed their coffee out of one of the overhead compartments, angrily shoveled a few spoonfuls into the French Press. 

He let it steep, staring at it all the while because it was an excellent excuse to not look at anything else. Then he filled the coffee from the French Press into their coffee pot and poured Donnie a mug.

He turned around again. To his surprise, Donnie had been watching him. "Remember when Mikey found that dress?" he said. "He wanted to wear it so bad. Took him like a week to work up the courage because he was worried we'd laugh."

Raph remembered. He _had_ laughed, and Leo had punched him in the arm and shushed him. And then Mikey had worn that dress, and everyone went on about their day. Nothing had changed. Mikey wore a dress, so what. They _all_ looked weird in human clothes. Whether they had sequins or not.

Now Mikey wore dresses sometimes. He had his mask tassels in a bow now, too. He painted his fingernails and wore jewelry. And he was still the same old Mikey—maybe even more than before. 

Raph sat down at the table with Donnie and handed him his coffee. Donnie abandoned his tinkering, curled his fingers around the mug and inhaled the steam coming off of it.

"You okay?" he asked.

Raph nodded once, tensely. 

"Good. Do you still wanna talk about this or are you too freaked out now?" Donnie continued.

"I'm gettin' a headache," muttered Raph sourly. Donatello smiled thinly and pushed his mug towards him. 

Raph took it and took a sip. The coffee was bitter and hot and good. Whether it was just his imagination or not, but the pounding in his head subsided. 

Raph gave the mug back. "'s fine," he muttered. "This entire shit's so confusing and I feel stupid. You gotta walk me through it."

"Well then," Donatello said, taking a cautious first sip. "Sexual and romantic interest exists on a spectrum. Uhm—" 

He looked around and grabbed a ruler from Mikey's pile of art supplies in his designated comic-drawing corner of the table. "See this ruler? Imagine that the 1 here—" he pointed at the one end, "—is heterosexuality. And the 12 is homosexuality. Now, someone's attraction can be anywhere between these two." 

He waved his finger along the length. "You can, theoretically, be one hundred percent heterosexual, but you can also be just ninety percent heterosexual."

"Uh-huh," said Raph, blandly.

Donnie looked up at him, pushing his glasses up his beak with a knuckle. He assessed Raphael for a moment, then indicated the middle of his ruler. "Or you're in the middle, then you're bisexual," he continued carefully. "You like two genders, _bi_ means two; like in bipedal, walking on two legs. That's what Casey is. Er, bisexual I mean, not—wait, no, actually he's bipedal too of course, erm—"

"Don't hurt yourself, there, brainiac," Raph said, smiling.

Donnie took a breath. "Yes, well. I'm simplifying it—Casey might have a preference that I don't know about and I don't want to assume—"

"It's hypothetical; I get it, Dee." 

Donnie looked up and smiled a bit. "And you call yourself 'intellectually challenged,'" he teased. 

"Fine, I'm not as bad as Mike," Raph allowed, and Donnie snorted a little and gave him a reproachful look. 

"Mike's the most emotionally intelligent of us," he said. "And that's a very good trait, Raphie. I don't think we'd have this conversation the way we do if he hadn't come speak to me beforehand. I think I would be freaking out a bit."

"Yeah?" muttered Raph, crossing his arms over his plastron.

"Yeah," Donnie agreed. "Not because of you, don't worry," he added quickly because he could see Raph's face hardening. "I just mean... Without some time to think about it myself I would probably have panicked and ended up saying the wrong thing. Identity is complicated, especially if you're a—a pariah like us."

Raph squinted at him. "A pa-whatnow?"

"A social outcast. The etymology isn't clear. It might be Tamil. In India, it's used to—"

Raph sighed a little through his nose. "Dee, remember what we said about compartmentalization of information?"

Donnie, mid-sentence, snapped his beak shut and nodded. "Right. Uhm. What I mean is, it's a bit scary to think about, isn't it?"

"What, you're telling me? I'm the one feeling like a fuckin' fish outta water," muttered Raph, chin tucked against his chest. "So, okay: Hetero, gay, bi in the middle; what was that about Mikey wanting to fuck pans?"

"Raph," Donnie scolded, though Raph's lazy smirk told him it was said in good humor. 

"Like I said, pansexual people experience attraction aside from gender," said Donnie. "Basically, you're putting the person first, then their parts."

Raph frowned but nodded. "That's why it doesn't matter to him if it's, what, a robot or the Fish Man or what have you."

"Amphibian," said Donnie. "But yes, basically. But also, 'we're not into labels' and all, don't tack anything on him he's not comfortable with, yeah?" He smiled a little, pleadingly. "I know it's hard, we think in boxes, but just don't assume anything until he tells you it's this way or that, okay?" 

"Hmm." Raphael sucked on his teeth but nodded. Donatello slowly sipped his coffee and fiddled with his little project. They thought together about different things and sat in easy silence for a while.

"That's pretty wild," said Raph finally. "I had no idea."

"All things considered the whole gender and sexuality movement is still relatively new," Donatello said, nodding. "And education on the matter is still severely lacking. Don't feel bad for not knowing. I wouldn't know how we should, in our position."

"Okay," said Raph, taking the advice at face value. Donnie was usually pretty good about differentiating between what was common knowledge and what wasn't.

Donnie regarded him carefully. "Besides this, uh..." He gave Mikey's ruler a little wave. "—this static idea of sexuality, people have come up with a whole lot of labels to describe themselves. I skipped a lot to give you a more basic understanding. So... if you feel like _gay_ doesn't suit you, I'm sure you can find something else."

"I'm _not_ gay," Raph said, single-minded again as if the entire conversation hadn't happened.

Donnie suppressed a sigh as he carefully put the ruler back to Mikey's pile. "You like girls, then?" he asked.

"Eh." Raph made a face. "Not really. _Humans_ are weird."

Donnie smiled. "They are," he agreed.

"They look like naked mole rats!"

That actually startled a laugh out of Donnie. "I see you've thought about this."

"I've _seen_ porn," said Raph by way of explanation. "It's _awful_."

Donnie looked guilty in the way only a teenager who had _also_ watched porn and knew exactly what his brother was talking about, but also _kinda_ disagreed, could look guilty. "Segue," he said pointedly, "you like Casey."

"'Course I do," said Raph, crossing his arms again defensively. "He's my best friend."

"Well. If it's that easy, why the huffing and hawing?"

Raph crossed his arms tighter around himself, like a physical barrier. "How's any of this shit work?"

"'This shit?'" parroted Donnie, patient.

"Yeah, like—" Raph shrugged a little, uncomfortable. "Dating and shit?"

"Oh, hm." Donnie looked into the middle distance for a while, thinking, before turning his attention back to Raphael. "Don't get me wrong, but shouldn't you ask Casey about this?" he asked then with a little smile. 

Raph frowned. "I kinda did and it only made it worse," he muttered.

Donnie stared at Raph for a moment but Raph didn't seem to want to elaborate. Donatello was curious by nature and he really wanted to ask, but he knew better than to pry. Raph knew this, his glare was daring him to ask and see what would happen if he did.

"Uhm." Donnie leaned back a little and blinked owlishly behind his glasses. "Maybe ask Mikey then?" he asked softly.

Raph’s testing stare slipped into bewilderment.

Donnie sighed. "Your trust flatters me and I'll gladly talk to you about all the _boring_ facts of life, Raphie, but I don't experience sexual or romantic attraction," he elaborated patiently. "So I honestly wouldn't _know_. Mikey, however, seems like someone who would be happily willing to love anyone as long as they love him back. So he probably knows a lot more about this than I do."

Raph held his arms around himself, but his shoulders sagged a little in dropped defense. He blinked. "None?" he asked, softly.

Donatello shrugged. "I don't think so," he said. "Not that I know of? I mean..." He chuckled a little; that tiny, airy little thing when he was bashful and his anxiety was rising. "Compared to Mikey, well..."

"Don't compare yourself to _Mikey_ ," Raph sneered with a head tilt. "He's one step away from a mail-order bride."

Donnie laughed a little. "That's mean," he said reproachfully, but the smile on his face was belying him. "Mikey just... really wants to find love. And that's very understandable."

"But you don't?" Raph pressed.

Donnie shrugged again. He stared at the table. "Not like him, anyway," he muttered.

"What about Leo?" Raph asked, leaning forward. "Leo's not into anyone either."

Donnie gave him a look without lifting his head. "Have you _seen_ his face when he watches _Merry Christmas, Mr Lawrence_?"

"Yeah but I thought that was his weird Japanophilia." Raph frowned. "Wait. You're not saying—?!"

Donnie quickly lifted his hands. "I'm _not_ the turtle to talk to about these things!" he sputtered. "I just mean, I think Leo has different goals in life. But I don't think he's... he's _aromantic_ , you know? He's just doing that thing—"

"'I'm so zen I've ascended to the astral plane'," Raph grunted. "Yeah."

"I think if he ever met someone who was as much into kendo and Bushido as him, he would happily have a partner," Donnie said.

"God, we're all a bunch of weirdos, aren't we," Raph sighed, rubbing his face.

Donnie chuckled a little. "Our existence is the weirdest thing about us, Raph, after that I'm pretty sure it's all normal. Dresses, pants, girls, guys, liking any or none of these things is really just another part of life."

Raphael gave him a long, hard look that made Donnie flustered and fumble with his little project to pretend he didn’t notice.

"Y'know," Raph said slowly, "you're pretty good at the Splinter-y life lessons. Probably better than Leo, but don't tell him I said that."

"Oh." Donnie blushed deeply. "I wouldn't dream of it. Th- thanks, Raph."

Raph grinned, and then slapped his hand on the table with an air of finality. "Well, I'm gonna go to bed," he said and got up. "Thanks for the talk, bro. Don't stay up too long." 

He gave Donnie a familial pat on the shell on his way out, and left Donnie to do what Donnie did all night long.

\-- 

Raph slept lightly after that, and woke up when Mikey beneath him left the bunk sometime the next morning.

"Mike," said Raph, voice rough from sleep and without bothering to move from where his face was mushed into his pillow.

"Sorry Raph," whispered Mikey, peeking up to his bunk guiltily. "Did I wake you?"

Raph opened one laser green eye, glaring at him. "Mikey," he said. "If you continue to blab shit out that's none'a yer businesses I will _rip_ your shell offa your back."

Mikey had the decency to look a little embarrassed. "You talked to Don," he muttered. "Got it, chief. Sorry."

Raph grunted and rolled over, pulling his blanket over himself for a few more minutes. He dozed off again, but was half aware of Mikey silently stalking around near him, and heard him place something on the wall shelf that served as his bedside table. 

The smell of coffee hit his nostrils, and even as Mikey tiptoed away again, Raph smiled a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're almost done with the first half of the story! you're lucky, because I broke some chapters apart, I will post chapter 7 next week as well and then we'll go into a hiatus after that. it was exciting and challenging to post weekly but I need a little break and some time to play catch-up. after all the introspection Raph has been through in part one, part two will change the... _relationship_ of Raph and Casey quite a lot so I hope you're as excited as I am! >:3c


	7. Chapter 7

Leo stood in the middle of the lair, hands on his hips. Everything was as always: Dad was tending to his bonsai in their little garden nook. The maple had looked a bit sad, then Don had tweaked something about the daylight lamps, and now it was flourishing. Dad was very proud. (Of the bonsai, _and_ Donatello in equal measures.) Mikey was at the table drawing, humming along to the soundtrack of Donnie trying out glitches to work on his Mario speedrun.

That left just one thing. It was _also_ as it always was, but Leo didn't _like_ it. 

"Where's Raph?" he asked, frowning. 

"Haven't seen him since breakfast," said Donnie, without looking up. 

Leo turned to Mikey expectantly.

"What?" asked Mikey as he felt his brother's peering gaze. "What am I, his nanny? Why would _I_ know where he is?"

"Michelangelo," said Leo sternly.

"Leonardo!" Mikey answered back, throwing up his arms.

"Donatello!" Donnie piped in cheerfully. Leo wheeled around to him with a scowl and Donnie ducked his head and snickered. 

"Well if nobody knows where he is he failed to give any notice of his departure," Leo sighed. "And that's against the _rules_."

"Relax, it's not like he has a lot of places to go," said Donnie. "I bet he's only at Casey's."

"What's he doing there all the time?" asked Leo, exasperated. "At this hour?"

"Just dudes being bros," muttered Mikey to himself, finishing a line on his comic and then looking up at Leo. "Dude, you gotta stop being so anal. He didn't leave. He's just in the pool. Relax."

Leo squinted at him. "So you _did_ know where he is!"

"Uhm, _duh_? Of course I do. I'm Mikey."

Leo stared at Mikey and Mikey stared back at Leo. Then Leo threw his arms up in surrender, shook his head and went to the bathroom to check.

He knocked, because he was polite, but when he didn't hear an answer, he pushed the door open regardless. A wall of steam hit him, and he blinked the moisture away. 

The bathroom was spacious because it was communal. They had four showers (water lines, at least, were nothing they ever had too few of) and they had dug a deep hole into the floor that all four of them could fit into as a tub, or maybe a pool. 

When they'd been younger they had still had a lot of animal instincts, and being fully submerged was definitely one especially for Donatello and Raphael. Mikey and Leo enjoyed the water a lot, but had a bit less of an inclination to go under. Nevertheless, pool time had been a treasured bonding time when they'd been little. 

As they grew older, the animal instincts lessened, and it happened less and less that they'd spend time together in or around their little pool. 

As Leo stood in the doorway, he felt a distinct pulling of nostalgia, followed by immediate worry for his brother, because what was going on that Raph felt the urge to vanish underwater for the entire morning?

As it were, the tub was filled to the brim with water, but nothing but a dark shadow at the bottom hinted that Raphael was indeed there. 

Leo slowly walked over, careful to put just enough weight into his steps to know the vibration would carry through the floor and to Raph. They had excellent tremor sense, especially underwater. 

Leo stopped when he saw the shadow in the water stir, air bubbles rising up to the surface. Raph came up a little bit, but not completely. 

He said something under water that, to Leo, sounded like, "Blurg blay," but held the definite tone of _go away_. 

"Have you been in here all morning?" asked Leo. 

Raph hesitated a moment, then another burst of bubbles rose up and he poked his head out of the surface just so. "What?" he asked, blinking his second eyelids away. 

"Have you been in there all morning?" Leo asked again. 

Raph frowned at him. "What's it to you?"

"Nothing," said Leo slowly. "Kinda rude to occupy the bathroom like this though."

"If Mikey's gotta pee he can do it with me in here," said Raph, already inhaling to go back under. 

Leo was quicker. "Are you okay?" he blurted.

Raph stopped mid-dive. "Why?" he asked suspiciously, a disgruntled huff of air stirring the surface of the water.

Leo grimaced and shrugged and gestured a little at the pool without finding words. 

Raph looked at the offending pool. He very obviously worked on his reply because it took a moment until he said, very deliberately, "Just trying to get time away from _you_." He stared up at Leo defiantly. "After all you hate it when I leave, so this is all I got, yeah? Thanks for ruining that, by the way."

Leo frowned. He knew it was a barb and just said to hurt him, to get a rise out of him that Raph could counter, to fight him. 

Leo breathed and let it go. "Okay," he said, appeasing. "Any new diving record yet?"

"No," Raph said. "An' it ain't gonna happen as long as you stand there and yap."

"Alright," said Leo, smiled a little against the hurt he felt, and left. 

He closed the door behind him. 

Raph watched for a moment longer, suspicious. But Leo left him alone. 

"Mh," said Raph into the silence, and put his beak and snout back under the surface. He blew bubbles out of his nose just for the heck of it. 

He'd been in the water for a couple of hours, and it had helped a little against the nagging anxiety he felt, but now the water was cold and Leo had woken him up from a light snooze. 

Raph dove under again and closed his eyes, willing the calm from earlier to come back, but the magic was gone. 

Deciding it was probably time for food anyway, Raph lumbered out of the pool and grabbed his towel (color-coded for convenience) to dry off. Maybe Leo would be up for some sparring too, that usually was a good way to get his mind off things. 

As he stood there, rubbing roughly at his skin, he remembered something that had happened a while ago. Donnie, looking at him with a softness that was nothing but _ignorant_ , saying, 'Your shell is the most neglected of all of us, Raphie.'

Raph grimaced at his reflection in the mirror over his own sink. Well, _fuck_ him, right? Stupid soft-shell. What did _he_ know about shell care? Donnie could bend at the waist, after all, he could reach his; his stupid tiny little shell was flexible and leathery and soft while Raph basically ran around with a metric _fuckton_ on his back. Half of Raph's upper body strength probably just came from keeping him upright! 

And now they wanted him to, what, come up with a beauty routine for that thing, that stupid thing that kept him from lying on his back, that ripped holes into any sort of clothes he tried to wear above the waist, that made him the only one who couldn't fit through April's window anymore—! 

Raph tried and twisted before the tiny mirror, pawing irritably at the lip of his shell where it protruded over his shoulders. Damn thing didn't even serve a purpose! Leo and Mikey could retract; so what if Leo hadn't actually done that since he was seven because he considered it "undignified," he could do it as well as Mikey (who called it "homey")—and _Donnie_ might as well just have a spine like a human.

"Stupid thing," Raph muttered under his breath, staring morosely at the dark grime he had scraped off his scutes with his fingernails. "Goddammit."

He grimaced at his reflection. They'd been right, hadn't they? He _hated_ when that happened.

\--

Mikey sat at his designated comic drawing part of the kitchen table, presumably drawing comics. His shell was towards Raph, who had been watching him silently for an almost inappropriate time now. 

Dee was in his lab, like always. Leo was in the dojo. With no brother besides Mikey around, it was the perfect opportunity.

The second hand of the clock passed the 12 and the minute hand ticked forward another minute. Raph took a deep breath and steeled himself, approaching his little brother.

"M—uh," he said, floundering; he cleared his throat and tried again. "Uh, hey, Mike."

Mikey turned around with a smile. He made no semblance that he had noticed Raphael prior—which didn't fool Raph because Orange was still a capable ninja. "Whassup, bro?"

Raph fidgeted where he stood, avoiding eye contact. "The, uh. The thing you mentioned the other day—"

Mikey's eyes went big and terrified. "If this is about the last bottle of Strawberry Crush, I swear that wasn't me, that was Don, I warned him, I totally didn't—"

"What?" asked Raph. "No. What? No!" He stopped a moment to think if his last bottle had been there the last time he had checked the fridge. He couldn't remember. He shook his head. "No, the, uh, the fucking—... You said you scrub Leo's shell for him sometimes—"

Mikey's eyes went impossibly wider. Then he actually slapped his hands over his cheeks and squeaked with glee like a fuckin' nerd. 

"Ohmigosh, Raph!" he squealed, and Raph made a face in disgust. "It's a dream come true, you're coming to me for some good old Warm Hues bonding time?"

"'s nothin' to do with bonding," growled Raph. "I can't reach and _you three_ are apparently super bothered by me, so fuckin', I dunno, help me I guess!"

"Aww," crooned Mikey. "You don't mean that, it's _boondiing_."

Raph crossed his arms in front of his plastron. "'s not gonna be anythin' if you don't shut _up_ 'bout it."

Mikey slapped his hands over his mouth, made a zipping-locking-and-throwing-key-away motion. "I solemnly swear to Pizza Supreme in the sky, I shan't say another word!" he promised.

"Yeah right," scoffed Raph. "As if you're not gonna run to Don or Leo the second I'm not looking."

Mikey's smile grew a little strained. "Uh, bro, _you_ came to _me_ asking for a favor, you realize that, yeah?" he said. "Maybe don't be so rude about it?"

"Eh." Raph shrugged exaggeratedly. At this point he was uncomfortable and angry enough to steamroll anything in his way. "'m just sayin', lyin' to my face like that? You got a lot of balls."

Michelangelo's smile stayed where it was, but something in his eyes hardened. "Well," he said sweetly. "I guess I have that going for me at least, huh?"

This startled Raph out of his anger. His arms sank away from his chest a little. "Huh?"

Mikey shrugged slowly. "I'm just sayin'," he said, parroting Raph to a degree that was quickly making Raph uncomfortable in an entirely different way than before. Mikey wasn't supposed to... He usually— 

"You're usually first with the insults whenever I do something you consider 'girly,'" Mikey said, crossing his arms over his plastron. Gone was every facsimile of a smile, however fake. 

Raph stared at him, completely at a loss for words with Orange's unusual behavior. He needed a moment to process all that. "But," he said finally, weakly, all bite having left him, "you don't mind. Right?"

"Well, being called _girly_ , no, I don't give a fuck," Mikey said, unusually venomous. "Because there's nothing _wrong with being a girl_. The fact that you insult me because you think it makes _you_ look better, though? Not so cool. Hurts."

Mikey might as well have sucker-punched him in the jaw. "Mikey..." Raph started, faltering. "Hey, bro..."

"But, y'know what?" Mikey shrugged, arms still crossed. "Sad thing about it is that I think I've gotten _used_ to it. So like, whatever, I guess." 

He moved to turn away. "Insulting people is like your only defense before you start throwing punches and I do _not_ wanna get punched."

Raph watched, shock rooting him in place where he stood, as Mikey turned his back on him and sat back down at the table to continue his work where he'd left off. 

Raph felt like he couldn't breathe. Mikey was only grinning through the insults because he thought the alternative would be getting decked in the jaw? Raph worked through that and steeled himself. No matter how annoying they could be, no matter how much he needed time away from them, no matter how much he _hated_ them sometimes, Raphael _loved_ his brothers, and the idea that he was causing them pain was unbearable.

"I had no idea," he said, whispered.

Mikey scoffed without turning around. "Of course not, you're super self-absorbed," he said, like it meant nothing.

Raph flinched. Mikey was really lashing out with the harsh truths. He felt like his insides were aflame with acid. His skin prickled. Tears were beginning to burn in his eyes, and he blinked heavily to will them away. 

"'s not cool," he said finally. "I shouldn't do that."

"Ya think?" Mikey half-turned only to grimace at him. 

"I'm just—"

"You're super unsure of your own masculinity, Raph, I know." Mikey rolled his eyes. "We all know. We _live_ with you, sheesh."

"No," protested Raph, weakly. "I—"

"Dude, seriously?" Mikey just interrupted him, using his pen to point at him. "Be _man_ enough to at least admit it, and living with you will be a lot easier."

That made Raph to entirely shut up. Wow, getting scolded by your _little brother_ really fucking sucked. Raph had to breathe against the swell of emotions in his chest. Hurt, hurt _pride_ , regret, and the love for his brother all made for a terrible cocktail. It was overwhelming.

Raph could do nothing but breathe for a few arduous seconds.

Mikey watched him, silently, intently, never saying anything.

Finally, and Raph could feel himself shaking, he nodded a little.

"What's that mean?" asked Mikey, suspicious, but the bitterness was already leaving him. 

"I'm..." Raph began, curling his hands into fists and trying to focus what he felt into words. "I'm sorry, Mikey. I was... you're a, an easy target, and I—I was... an asshole, and I'm... I'm truly, terribly sorry, and, and I—"

"Alright, alright." Mikey shook his head. "It's okay, you don't need to write a fucking essay. You're sorry?"

"I'm sorry," said Raph, staring at the floor.

Mikey regarded him a moment, tapping his pen against his beak. "Say, 'I'm sorry and Michelangelo is the greatest turtle,'" he said.

Raph's nostrils flared. "I'm sorry and Michelangelo is the greatest turtle," he said, obediently.

"Ha!" And just like that, Mikey was smiling again. "Wow, that felt amazing. I should've recorded that."

"Ha, ha," said Raph, without any humor. 

Mikey got up from his chair again and crossed the distance to his big brother. He opened his arms and, when Raph didn't pull away, looped them around Raph's neck to pull him down for a hug. "I forgive you," he promised. "Just promise me you'll remember that we had this conversation, okay?"

"Okay," said Raph hesitantly. 

He didn't feel like he deserved that hug, didn't deserve Mikey's absolution or his love, but littlest brother was warm and smelled of comfort and Raph needed nothing more right now. He wrapped his arms around Mikey and hugged him close.

Mikey chuckled a little as he booped his forehead gently against Raph's. "You still want that shell scrub or is that too much now?" he asked.

Raph felt like all he deserved was getting his feet cemented and then being thrown to the bottom of the Hudson to drown. He breathed against that feeling. It took him a moment but then he shook his head a little. "No, let's... let's do it. I think you deserve a little bit of, uh, bonding after I've been a massive dick to you for way too long," he said.

Mikey's face lit up like the Rockefeller Christmas tree. 

\--

Didn't matter that Raph had already spent most of the morning in the pool. They _were_ turtles after all. They just filled the tub back up with hot steaming water and sat on the tiled steps together in idle conversation.

Mikey was bubbly and excited, and if Raph hadn't been there to witness it firsthand, he never would have guessed how uncharacteristically cold he had been just an half hour earlier. 

Mikey's ability to bounce back was admirable, really. Raph told him so. 

Mikey stared at him with huge blue eyes. "You think?" he asked. "Aw shucks. I just always wanna make sure you guys are, like, _okay_. So I just, I dunno, focus on that instead of my own stuff."

"Yeah, and that's admirable," Raph said. Between the hot water and getting an emotional beatdown, it was a bit easier to jump over his own shadow. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, not even me."

"Aww," crooned Mikey. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You're not as horrible a person as you think you are."

Raph grunted in lieu of an actual answer. Mikey didn't push it, he just leaned half out of the bath to tug a bucket over that was filled with brushes of all shapes and sizes and a few salvaged, misused toiletries; blunt knives to get between the scutes, files and sandpaper to smooth out irregularities, glue against cracks. 

Mikey grabbed the biggest, roughest brush they had, with thick plastic bristles usually used for scrubbing the floor. He scooted on his butt to sit behind Raph, and Raph put his arms around his knees and his chin on his arms and closed his eyes. 

Mikey started scrubbing, hard enough to make Raph wobble with the motion. They'd fallen in comfortable silence, though Mikey started humming to himself after a while. 

The hot water was nice and even through all that thick bone, the movement of Mikey scrubbing away at him felt nice. Eventually Raph's eyes began to close as he just accepted Mikey's ministrations and relaxed. His mind, for once, was blissfully empty.

He didn't hear anyone enter, so when Leo suddenly spoke, Raph jumped, waking up from a doze. 

"It's actually really satisfying," Mikey was saying cheerfully. "Like when you finally get around to cleaning the oven and there's just years and _years_ of gunk coming off."

Leo chuckled a little, and when Raph peered down, the water had in fact turned dark with grime. 

And all that had been sitting on him? Damn. That was pretty gross. He shouldered through his discomfort. "'s a protective layer," he said. 

"Of course," said Leo and Mikey at the same time, then burst into laughter over it. And just like that, Leo pulled up his pant legs and sat down on the edge of the tub, dangling his feet down in the water. 

"Oh, ew, get your feet outta my bath," Raph growled, without actually minding. 

"I think I'm actually _increasing_ the quality of your bath water," Leo chuckled, sticking his tongue out at Raph. Raph splashed water into his face, making Leo sputter. "Oh, ew!"

"What was that about increasing the quality of my bath water, Mr Clean?" Raph laughed. Leo kicked him and Raph grabbed his ankle, and Leo yelped and tried to not get dragged into the tub with all his clothes on. 

"Someone get Donnie," said Mikey into their mild squabble. "He should be here."

"I think he would definitely not enjoy this water," said Leo mildly, shaking Raph off. Sewer or not, Don's extensive knowledge of medicine made him somewhat of a germophobe. 

"No reason not to include him!" said Mikey unhappily. "We can't have a bath together after all these years and not ask him to join!"

Raph cleared his throat. "You can probably lure him over when you tell him he can do those swatches on my shell," he told Leo, and Leo snickered, but nodded and left to get their remaining brother. 

"There's not gonna be a need for Don's fancy schmancy hair care products when I'm done with you," said Mikey cheerfully. A while ago already he had switched brushes, and the long forceful strokes of trying to scrub grime away had become circular smaller movements to get into the ridges and around the spikes with a softer brush. "All you need is some TLC and some old-fashioned Michelangelo brand elbow grease."

"Good sales pitch," Raph chuckled. "Sounds better than whatever Don was saying about chemicals and keratin or whatever."

"Once you're properly cleaned, however," Mikey continued, "a regular waxing can do wonders for you."

"Waxing," Raph repeated suspiciously. "Like a car?"

"Yeah!" Mikey perked up. "Like your bike, too! You wax it, right?"

"Of course I do," said Raph, indignant and insulted by the very idea he might not. 

"Well, same with your shell. Put a good old coat of wax over it to protect it and make it pretty."

Raph made a face. "I don't want it to be _pretty_."

Hidden safely behind Raph's back, Mikey rolled his eyes. "Badass then." He clambered out of the tub to grab a mirror that he handed to Raph, and then held up a second one so he could see behind him. "Look at that, your shell is so cool. Such a pretty color too."

Raph had to twist a bit to see. It was hard to tell because the hand mirror Mikey had handed him was tiny and clouded, but with all the dirt and grime gone, his shell really wasn't as bad as Raph had thought just this morning. The color was much more green than Raph remembered. Not quite as vibrant as his skin, but a much more saturated color than any of his brothers. Sure, Mikey and Leo had the pretty patterns, and Donnie was the most flexible, but Raph's shell was definitely the most badass. 

"Huh," said Raph, a bit dumbstruck. 

"Is Cinderella transforming into a beautiful princess?" asked Leo as he came back into the bathroom, a very excited looking Don in tow who was carrying armfuls of bottles. 

"Fuck you Leo," snarled Raph, immediately tense. Leo raised his hands as a peace sign while Don put all his bottles on the floor and leaned over, curiously surveying Mikey's handiwork.

"Damn, Mikey," he said, appreciatively. "Good job. I had almost forgotten his shell was green!"

"I'm gross, I get it, stop it already!" snarled Raph, withstanding the urge to run away and slam doors. 

"That's supposed to be compliments, Raph, relax," said Mikey with a gentle pat to his shell. Raph grunted, unsure, but remained where he was. 

To Leo and Don Mikey said, "You two, less sarcasm."

"Sorry," said Leo, while Donnie said, "I wasn't being sarcastic—"

"Shhushh," said Mikey insistently. He grabbed Raph by the shell and, with surprising strength, manhandled him around so that he could grab the shower head that was attached to the tab in the wall and began rinsing Raph's shell. 

Leo, attentive, pulled the plug so the dirty water could flush. While Mikey cleaned the tub and Raph from excess dirt, Leo and Don took off their clothes and joined them for the second round of bathing. 

"So what happened that Mikey managed to get us all together like this?" asked Don, pushing up his glasses to his forehead when they began to fog up with steam. 

"Quality bonding time!" chirped Mikey. "I got Raph to agree to let me scrub him and I just couldn't let this chance go to waste."

Raph noticed that that wasn't exactly what it had been like, but Mikey had promised not to tell, hadn't he? So he said nothing, and just let Mikey do whatever he was doing. 

"It's a good idea," Leo said cordially. "I'm sure it's good for morale."

All three brothers kind of snickered and rolled their eyes and reminded Leo that they weren't soldiers at war. Leo looked a little embarrassed, but then chuckled along. 

Mikey continued with Raph's shell, moving to gentler and softer brushes every time, until eventually Don said, "that's enough, that's enough," and pushed Mikey away to sit behind Raph instead and starting outlining different fields on Raph's shell with tape. He used his products in each field that he then carefully labeled. Mikey and Leo watched, telling Raph what was happening. 

"I'm gonna look like I ran away from area 51," Raph groused. But he wasn't mad. He liked being helpful for Donnie, no matter how weird it was. It made Donnie happy, so it made Raph happy. 

"It looks more like when girls on YouTube do makeup swatches," said Mikey. 

"I mean, that's what it is, really," muttered Don, taping another field into place. "Basically anyway. Obviously it's done in science a lot."

"Makeup is a science, Dee," Mikey said. 

Donnie considered this. "Yes," he said finally. "I guess."

"I would say Raph is doing something for the greater good," said Leo cordially. "We will all benefit from the results. No more shell scrub with soap. It's bad for you. Dries out the scutes. I hate it."

"All three of you are nerds," said Raph. "You should hear yourselves. I'm the one with the damn makeup on his shell but _you_ sound like sissies."

They all snickered together. Nobody argued. 

\--

Donnie, like always, worked swiftly and was done after a few minutes. "There we go," he announced, leaning back. "All done."

"So now what?" asked Raph, who'd been sitting patient and mellow.

"Well," said Donnie, leaning back and surveying his work. "Optimally I'd like to reapply these every few days and see which product has the best effect on your shell, and then use that as a base to formulate my own product. If it works, we should have something that works towards our needs specifically."

"Nice," said Mikey and Leo, wholeheartedly agreeing, held his hand out for a high three.

"'s that mean I gotta run around with tape on my shell?" asked Raph, caning his neck to try and see the fields Donnie had made for swaps. 

"Well," said Donnie uncomfortably. 

"Oh, look who's vain suddenly," Mikey snickered. 

"Please, have you seen his selfies?" said Leo jovially. Raph elbowed him.

" _Shellfies_ , Leo, we talked about this," Mikey corrected.

"I suppose I could remove the tape and just, you know, memorize the pattern," said Donnie, kneading his fingers a little. He had of course impeccable memory, but also knew that relying on memory was not scientific at _all_ and what if he _did_ make a mistake? 

"How about like, putting a dot of color next to it and making a key of that?" asked Mikey.

"Oh," said Donnie, rubbing his chin. "Yeah, I guess that would work."

"Okay, I'll—"

" _Not_ with Sharpie, Mikey," growled Raph. "That takes months to grow out and you know that!"

Mikey, already half out of the pool, made a face. "What then, nail polish?"

"That's not even the worst idea," said Donnie, rubbing his chin. "It's made to last, can be applied relatively deliberately and I know Mikey has a lot of colors in his stash." 

"Oh, no, what?" Raph asked with wide eyes. "No way."

Mikey rolled his eyes. "Come _on_ Raph, what about your character development today, huh?" He grabbed Raph by the lip of his shell and jostled him. "What if I make something cool? Like, draw something, like, I dunno, a skull? I'm pretty good at nail art. I would _so_ have a YouTube channel if it weren't for, y'know, this whole situation." He did the "gesturing along their faces and body" thing that usually went with that phrase.

"Didn't you always say the second you turn eighteen you want to get every inch of your body tattooed?" Leo asked, smugly. 

"Yeah, and what's that gotta do with anythin'?" asked Raph sourly. 

"I'm pretty sure that's like the shell equivalent of it," Leo said easily. "Can't tattoo a shell, but you _can_ paint on it. And Mikey's drawings _are_ very good, you can't argue with that."

"Why thank you, _oniisan_ ," said Mikey smoothly with a head bow. 

"You're very welcome, _ototou_ ," said Leo with a head bow of his own. They snickered.

Raph scrunched up his face. "How'd that even work, didn't you like, put that shit on me in a grid?" he asked Donnie, the One Sane Brother.

"I have a feeling we've careened off to another topic entirely," said Donnie vaguely. "I'll just take a pic of your shell now, that'll be enough."

"So Raph, shell tattoo?" Mikey asked, way too excited. If it wasn't for his big sparkling eyes, Raph would've dunked him and gone away. But their conversation from before lingered in the back of his mind. He had made a promise, and Raph kept his promises. 

Besides, now Leo was staring at him as well, like he was daring him to chicken out, and Raph hated losing to him. Goddammit, he'd been played, hadn't he? Raph groaned and dragged his hands down his face. 

" _Fine_ ," he growled, and Mikey jumped out of the pool hooting and clambered over to his sink and shelf that kept his toiletries. "But reds only!"

"Oh goody, I never use them anyway; red looks so off on me." Mikey was digging through his collection, holding a few bottles against the light to check their color, and then came back to where his brothers were still all sitting in and around the pool. "Any idea of what you want?" he asked. 

Instead of answering him, Raph turned to Leo. "Hey, what's the kanji for _kazoku_?"

"Oh," said Leo, blinking in surprise a few times. He leaned over to rummage for his phone in his pants and looked up a dictionary and showed the results to Raph. "It's made up of the Kanji for house and tribe," he explained as Raph squinted at it. Raph's Japanese wasn't bad; his listening comprehension was good, it had to be because Dad often switched to his mother tongue, but Raph couldn't read kanji for shit. "I can probably come up with something more archaic if you like—" Leo continued.

"Nah, 's fine," said Raph, turning so his shell was towards his brothers.

Mikey, sitting there with three little bottles of red nail polish, finally was done searching his mental dictionary. "Oh shit," he said. " _Family_? That's so cheesy and in-character and cool."

"Just do it," grunted Raph.

Mikey opened the first bottle. "How big do you want it?" he asked. 

Raph shrugged gently. "If you're not gonna use those colors anyway, just empty 'em. 's not like I don't have enough space."

Mikey dipped the brush into the lacquer a few times to coat it. "Over the spikes too?"

"Go all out."

"Oh wow," said Mikey, turning to look at Leo who smiled at him encouragingly. "Leo, you have to tell me the brush order, I don't wanna fuck this up."

"Can I document this on video?" asked Donnie. " _Shell embellishments as a bonding ritual between terrapin mutants_ sounds like a great study to start."

"Is one subject enough to start a study?" asked Mikey, carefully following Leo's instructions and the kanji displayed on his phone as he started painting. 

Donnie shrugged. "It's only us four, Mikey, one makes 25%, that's quite a lot. Besides, you have stickers on your plastron, that definitely counts, so I _could_ argue it's closer to 50%."

"I already told you you're all nerds but _man_ , you guys are nerds," said Raph, leaning his chin back on his arms over his knees as he let Mikey work.

\--

Mikey had been very specific with his instructions. " _Don't_ move," he'd said, waving a finger at Raph who was parked on the couch on his plastron, "until I tell you. This was a _lot_ of color so it'll take a while to dry. If you touch anything, you'll smudge it."

"Sir, yes sir," said Raph, complacent for once. It'd been a long morning. He was fine with doing jack shit now. 

He was comfortable just lying there, a pillow squashed under his breastplate, watching cartoons on Netflix. Mikey had brought him a coffee, sat with him for a moment, and then moseyed back to his comics. Dad came by when he went to make tea, complimented Raph on his new shell embellishment and Mikey on his beautiful brushwork and then went to check up on Donnie in his lab. 

Judging by how he didn't come _out_ , Donnie probably started talking about whatever he was working on and didn't stop again. Dad was very good at not discarding Donatello's enthusiasm, even though he probably understood less than Donnie's brothers of what Purple was talking about. 

Leo sat, giving Raph respectable space, on the second couch, busy with his phone. He'd found a garden simulator game a while ago and until that became boring, he had a new favorite hobby besides doing kata all day. 

All in all, it was a good day. 

It became a much better day when the heavy steel door that guarded their lair swung open and Casey strolled in, carrying a few cardboard boxes.

"I return and bring pizza!" he exclaimed ceremoniously, kicking the door shut with his foot. It had been a while since he had been to the lair; busy with work and then upstate with his Ma for a few days.

"You're my favorite human!" Mikey squealed, jumping up to run towards him and relieve his favorite human of his cheesy cargo. "Hey Dee, Dad! Casey brought pizza!"

"Coming!" came Donnie's voice from the lab. "Just a second!"

"Wasn't April your favorite human last time?" Casey said to Mikey, laughing. 

"Always the one who brings the pizza, my dude," said Mikey cheerfully. 

"Mikey, either you let me get up again or you bring me one of them pies," growled Raph, propped up on his elbows but otherwise still obediently on the couch. 

"You have been spectacularly well-behaved, I think you deserve a treat," Mikey said cheerfully, dancing up toward him to hand him a box. Casey followed. 

"Whoa, what happened to you?" he asked when he saw the giant red calligraphy all over Raph's shell. 

"Nothing special," muttered Raph sheepishly, busying himself with his pizza. "Just something to make Mikey happy."

Mikey fell back on the second couch next to Leo, handing him a box. "Yeaahh," he said, and put his feet up as he tore into his pizza. "That's what that was."

Leo snickered a little. Casey looked at the brothers but none of them seemed to want to elaborate, all three busy stuffing their faces.

Casey motioned for Raph to make room on the couch, and Raph reluctantly folded his legs up so Casey could sit on the second cushion. His side brushed Raph's knees as he sat down, and Raph flinched and shimmied away a little more.

"It's Japanese, right?" asked Casey, leaning over Raph to inspect the drying color. "What's it say?"

"Uh," said Raph, mouth conveniently full of pizza. 

He was suddenly _very_ aware that Casey had his palm flat on his shell, leaning on him to look at the calligraphy on his back. Not that he was particularly heavy or anything; no, Raph could carry his measly human weight easily, but something made Raph suddenly feel very queasy. 

Raph could be just as peculiar about his personal space as Donatello, but usually with Casey, he didn't mind; hadn't _ever_ minded except for that weird, terrible little stretch of time after Casey's coming out and Raph was _glad_ that that was over. 

He didn't _mind_ Casey in his personal space.

But...

Maybe that was the problem? That Casey had been away for a while, and Raph hadn't seen him, and—missed this? His weight, how he smelled. How damn easy Casey made it all seem, when Raph already was so tense and high-strung all the time. 

Raph only realized he had zoned out when Casey's weight lifted off him. There was conversation happening around him, and Don and Splinter were suddenly in the living room too. Raph finally managed to swallow the pizza mush that had been sitting idly in his mouth. 

"Family, huh?" Casey was saying as he leaned back. "That is so you and so cheesy."

"I said the same thing!" Mikey exclaimed happily. 

"Well, Raph is many things, 'mysterious' ain't one of them," Casey chuckled. "No matter how hard he tries."

"Whatever," muttered Raph, sounding pathetic even to his own ears.

Casey laughed and nudged the bottom of Raph's shell with his elbow.

It sent a bolt of excitement all the way up to the base of Raph's neck, making his skin prickle with goosebumps that his reptilian DNA didn't know how to process. Raph froze in place because the only other option was to jump off the couch and make a mad dash away from Casey.

Casey didn't seem to notice. "Well, I think it looks cool," he said cheerfully. "You clean up nice."

"Uh," said Raph, already so unsure of what he was feeling, and now completely overwhelmed by the compliment. 

Thankfully, nobody was ever bothered by Raph's complete inability to accept genuine praise, so the conversation went on without him. 

Raph pushed an entire slice of pizza into his mouth because that was a very good excuse not to say anything until he had collected himself from... whatever was happening with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we've reached the half-point of... this whole situation. Thank you so much for being with me on this journey so far. Another super thick fat heapin' THANK YOU to derry for betaing this! Couldn't've done it without you!! 
> 
> Phew. Posting weekly was exciting and a challenge, and all your lovely comments kept me going! I read them over and over again and they give me such warm and nice fuzzy feelings. (I just don't reply in general because I like to keep my stats clean.) This story means so much to me and I was honestly freaking out over it several times, and all your lovely feedback really helped set me straight!
> 
> We'll take a break here -- the coming chapters are mostly done but need some heavy editing and beta, and I need a bit of time to get all that done. I also do this thing where I distract myself from writing by, uh, writing other things?? I have the TWS spinoffs, some Rise, I have a IDW Rasey started?? and who knows, maybe my Castlevania feelings will return when I catch up on s03. 
> 
> But I will see this through to the end, TWS remains my favorite brain child. Keep up with my progress with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/fowo__). Also, taking a break gives me the opportunity to draw more again, so expect updates on the [ask blog](https://twitter.com/fowo__) as well. 
> 
> One final thing I would like your opinions on: Would you prefer chapter updates as I finish them, or should I finish all of the second half and then post chapters weekly?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh. Wow. Remember last month, when everything was normal? Me neither...
> 
> Anyway... This chapter carries a soft reminder that every time the turtles are up, it's probably after 5pm—something that was much more prominent in earlier drafts, I've cut many remainders out of the fic because it frankly got confusing and doesn't always make sense. sorry.
> 
> also, check out [Meanwhile,](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23213680/chapters/55573285) where I post spin-offs and in-betweens!
> 
> And now I won't keep part two of this fic from you any longer. Things will go downhill fast. Hope you're strapped in. Here's your last reminder that the R rating of this fic isn't for 'Raphael.' So. You've been warned. 
> 
> Enjoy!

April was in college and had a job and four little nocturnal brothers who had _way_ too much free time on their hands. Her morning routine after dismissing her alarm was usually to catch up on the nightly development in her family group chat before she even got up to make coffee. 

Mikey of course shared just about everything he ran into on the internet (music, memes, miscellaneous) at a speed nobody could even keep up with. Donnie wrote a lot more than he spoke, so he piped in regularly. Depending on his current hyperfixation, he could actually be worse than Mikey when it came to rambling. 

Leo was always polite and reserved and legit wrote with proper spelling and punctuation. (April however knew he only did it to annoy Mikey, because in their private chats he was not above using several emojis as a reaction and on occasion writing in all caps when the situation warranted it.)

Raph and Mikey had a special talent for texting with each other even when they were sitting next to each other on the couch. Apart from that, Raph was the kind of person to leave messages on read, and wouldn't reply at all. He was more outspoken in private chats than the group one, so whenever April wanted to gauge where he was at mentally, she usually shot him a text directly.

Because he had been very quiet recently (and that was alarming, because Raph was many things; _quiet_ wasn't one of them), she thumbed out of the group chat and sent him a couple of red heart emojis. Just a little soft reassurance that she loved him; he wouldn't admit to it but she knew he needed the reminder occasionally.

He replied almost immediately.

Raph  
> am literally omw to bed ape

April  
> At six?? What happened??

Raph  
> headache

April  
> I'm sorry to hear that but there's no way in hell you're making me believe you let a headache bully you into going to bed early  
> You OK Raph?

Raph  
> yeah  
> i mean  
> i guess  
> maybe not  
> tbh i haven't felt super hot lately 

April  
> What's up big guy? Wanna talk?

Raph  
> hold on  
> gotta get rid of mikey  
> he says hi

April  
> Lmao hi Mikey! 🧡🧡🧡

Raph  
> ok so

And then he didn't reply for a bit. Instead, Mikey popped up in her messages, wishing her a good morning and sending her a couple of links to god-knows-what. April went to brush her teeth and get ready to leave for class. Raphael's belated reply came when she was walking down the stairs of her apartment building.

Raph  
> nvm it's stupid

Ah, so he had been typing up twenty possible replies, felt awkward about them all and decided it was easier to just bail. April rolled her eyes. 

April  
> Raph, no.  
> If it bothers you it’s not stupid.  
> Talk to me.

Raph  
> casey i guess

April  
> Oh no  
> What did he do this time?

Raph  
> nah nothing like that  
> guess i'm still hung up on him being bi?  
> whatever  
> i said it was stupid!

Oh. _Really_? Casey coming out as bi had been three or four months ago now. They'd all assumed Raph had managed to move on from his initial shock, but apparently not. 

It was typical for him, really. Donatello was maybe the one to overthink stuff constantly, but Raph _dwelt_ on shit. Sometimes it turned out that he was still sore about a prank Mikey had played on him years ago. For all his big heart, Raph could be incredibly resentful.

To her surprise, Raph continued to send messages and didn't immediately wall up.

Raph  
> ape promise me to tell nobody

April  
> I pinky promise  
> 🤙

Raph  
> also don't freak out

April  
> You're mutant turtles living in the sewers, Raph. C'mon.

Raph  
> i mean i guess  
> anyway  
> i think casey is coming on to me?

April ran headfirst into a lamp post and dropped her phone. She righted herself and collected it off the pavement and shouldered through a wave of embarrassment. When she looked down again, Raph's message was still there.

There was very little she could say that wouldn't freak Raph out, so she _very_ carefully constructed her reply.

April  
> Huh.  
> What makes you think that?

Raph  
> i dunno, he's being all nice and shit

April  
> Casey's a blockhead but he's usually "nice"  
> I don't think that constitutes as "coming on to you"

Raph  
> nah s not just that  
> mikey's been super weird about it too  
> says we're gonna get together and shit  
> i dunno  
> casey said nothing's changed but it doesn't feel like that at all  
> and i can't fucking tell anymore 

April  
> Oh Raph, honey  
> Are you sure you're not just freaking out because you know he's into guys now?

Raph  
> no that's EXACTLY why i'm freaking out  
> what if he's into me???  
> i mean that changes everything right???

April  
> Uhh  
> Look I don't claim to understand what's going through his head but I'd say that if he wasn't into you before he's probably not into you now just because he outed himself  
> Maybe ask him??

Raph  
> yeah right

April rolled her eyes. Yeah, heaven forbid Raphael had an actual conversation about feelings. She changed course.

April  
> OK Raph honestly?  
> Casey liking or not liking you honestly is only an issue in one scenario 

Raph  
> yeah and what's that 

April  
> Do you like HIM?

The dots under Raph's name kept blinking for a while. Then they vanished. No reply came. 

\--

It was very possible that none of his brothers bought into the "I got a headache so I'm headin' to bed early" excuse, but even so, they left him alone. 

He could hear them in the living room, talking over whatever they were doing. It was nice white noise, occupying a little corner in his brain with the feeling of comfort, even if he sometimes couldn't bear looking them in the eyes.

Raph was buried under his blankets in his bunk, staring at his phone. Donnie always said the internet held basically endless information and answers to everything.

("Depending, of course," he would say, "on what human knowledge contains," and mutant turtles were not included, and Donnie always said he kept an eye on information about _that_ matter because they still didn't know where they came from and how and _why_.) 

That was all nice and dandy, but Raph wasn't even sure what the hell he could possibly type into Google to help him with this. 

Life had been fuckin' confusing in the past few months. That much he knew. Problem was that he didn't exactly know _why_. But something was definitely off, something was different, and apparently everyone around him _noticed_ ; Dad and Mikey and now even Leo and April. 

That was what freaked Raph out the most. It was one thing to deal with things in the isolation of his own head, but now it was starting to cause ripples. Raph wasn't comfortable with people asking him questions, or worse, worrying about him. Or, worse still, offering _comfort_.

He was... he was fine, probably. Right? Just... puberty, or something. Yeah. Probably hormones. 

Nothing to worry about. Nothing for his brothers to concern themselves with. 

Raph could work this out himself.

So.

Talking to Casey about things usually helped with just about anything, but in this case, it hadn't helped at _all_. Actually it had just made things worse. 

So Raph had gathered his courage and talked to Donnie, because Donnie always had all the answers. And it had helped, in some ways, but after a few days of mulling everything over, it felt more like he had a whole lot of new stuff to be confused about. 

Problem was, the problem wasn't Casey anyway. Casey was bi. That was okay, that was _fine_ , even if Casey was _now_ almost as in-your-face with it as Mikey. And he was so fuckin' casual about it, too. Like it was no big deal. 

What had Donnie said? It shouldn't be a big deal, but reality was more complicated.

That was probably it.

Casey wasn't the problem. Raph was, and he knew it too. 

\--

In all honesty it was too damn early to sleep. And Raph had skipped dinner, so a few hours later his growling stomach lured him out of his bed and back into the communal area of the lair. 

Dad and Leo were on the couch, watching some old black and white samurai flick. Both looked at him when he came closer.

"How is your head, my son?" asked Splinter.

"Better," said Raph, rubbing his face. "'m hungry."

"We left you some pasta," said Leo. "You should also drink something, it will help with the headache."

"Mh," said Raph, opening the fridge to look for a container of leftover pasta. Part of him was annoyed he'd skipped dinner because Mikey's sauce with meatballs was _to die for_ and Raph was sure his brothers hadn't saved him quite as many as he would've liked.

He popped the lid off and counted them. Turned out there was enough for like two servings. Mikey was a fuckin' _saint_ and Raph made a mental note to tell him. Orange was way too nice to him all the time. 

Leo was next to him out of nowhere, making Raph jump. "Jesus _fuck_ ," he said, only catching the meatballs that had jumped out of the container with the help of ninja reflexes. "Don't fucking _do_ that."

"Hmm, not aware of your surroundings, Raphael, not a good look for a ninja," said Leo serenely as he filled water into the kettle. 

"Shove it," said Raphael, putting the box of leftovers into the microwave. He crossed his arms and waited.

Leo stood across from him by the kettle, also waiting.

They stared at each other.

"What?" asked Raph.

"Nothing," said Leo. His poker face was good, but not good enough. Raphael squinted pointedly. Leo sighed. "Fine," he said. "I worry about you."

"Well don't," said Raph, checking the microwave. Ten seconds had passed. Dammit, these were gonna be a long two minutes. 

Leo looked at him, calculating. "I really wish you would talk to me," he said. 

"Well I really wish you'd fuck off and leave me alone, but I guess we don't always get what we wish for, huh."

Leo's mouth was a thin, stern line. "No reason to be an asshole, Raph," he said. 

Raphael stared at the microwave so he didn't have to look at his brother. The conversation with Mikey he'd had a few days ago still lingered like a fresh wound in his mind. He worked his jaw like he was chewing something.

Raphael flared his nostrils in an angry huff and curled his hands into tight fists against his plastron, putting strength into it until it hurt. "Sorry," he said tersely.

Leo's shoulders sank in surprise. "What?" he asked dumbly.

"I _said_ I'm _sorry_!" spat Raph, feeling his face grow hot with shame. "You're worried and I'm an ass about it. So I fuckin' apologized, y'know, like an _adult_."

Leo looked a bit like Raph had told him pizza really wasn't all that great. But he caught himself quickly, regulating his face back into careful neutrality. "Thanks," he said tentatively. "I appreciate it."

"Hrn." Raph checked the microwave again. Still a bit more than a minute to go! Ugh.

"You know," said Leo carefully, and Raph really just wanted to get something to eat and fuck off into Donnie's lab or something, to get away from this conversation. "You're not bad at chess, no matter what you think."

The non sequitur was so weird that it startled Raph out of his anger. "Huh?" he asked, turning back. 

Leo smiled thinly at him. "You are," he insisted. "The only reason you always lose against me is because you're not worried enough about yourself. You go after my king and forget to protect your own. You would win, if you cared about yourself a bit more, kept your own six safe."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Raph, suspicious. 

"Oh," said Leo, "just a thought." The kettle clicked off, and he turned away to make tea. Raph stared at the back of his head, willing to look through it and right into Blue's thoughts. 

Unsurprisingly, it didn't work. The microwave told him in Donnie's voice that it was done. Raph grabbed a fork, carelessly stirred his pasta once or twice, and then sat down on the table to scarf down his late dinner.

To his surprise, Leo put a steaming mug down by his wrist. Raph wasn't big on tea, but Leo's tea-making skills were on par with Uncle Iroh's, and there was no way Raph would turn down a mug of perfect jasmine when offered. 

"We should play again sometime," said Leo conversationally. "You're a bold opponent. Courageous. Keeps me on my toes. It's more fun to play against you than Don, because Don is very predictable, unfortunately."

Raph stared at him with spaghetti hanging half out of his mouth. "You seriously tellin' me I'm better at fuckin' chess than the _brainiac_?" he asked through a full mouth. "I haven't fucking won a single game against you, ever."

"Well, that's why I'm giving you some advice so you might, in the future. You tend not to overthink stuff, you go with your guts. That's not a bad trait to have. You just need to remember to care for yourself, too," Leo said.

Raph grunted, and chewed, and poked around the Tupperware. 

Sensing he wouldn't say anything more, Leo gave him a careful pat on the shell, and carried the tea pot and two more mugs back down to Splinter.

Raph ate in silence, thinking.

It all came down to this, didn't it? All the things Mikey had said, Donnie's advice, April's question and now Leo's vague as fuck fortune cookie nonsense.

It all came down to one single, awkward, painful thing.

\--

It took him several more days to work up the courage, and a plan.

Privacy wasn't really a thing in their family. Well, Dad had his own room. Leo had at least a shoji partition. Don had a curtain. Mikey and Raph didn't even have that. 

It was fine, usually. If you never really had something to begin with, you couldn't really miss it. 

If you _needed_ it though, it started to be a really big fuckin' problem. _Some_ things required at least _some_ privacy just because his brothers didn't need to know what he was up to. And neither did Dad, for that matter. 

Raph had shortly entertained the idea of using the dojo or the bathroom when everyone was asleep—but Donnie kept odd hours and Leo was an early riser. There wasn't any guarantee that not one of his brothers might randomly pop up. So Raph considered it too risky. 

Anywhere in the lair was out of the question. He needed to leave the safety of his home. 

Problem with that was, what he planned on doing kind of made him want to hide under his blanket in the dark. 

But as a giant mutant turtle you couldn't be picky.

\--

It seemed to take hours until Mikey finally was tired enough to switch off the night light, yawn, collect his stuffed animals around him until he was comfortable, and finally went to sleep.

Raph waited until his breathing evened out. Knowing the ladder up to his bunk creaked, and his weight rocking the bed frame might wake his brother, Raph utilized all his household ninjutsu to get out of bed: He grabbed the pipes overhead and moved hand over hand along them until he knew he could touch down without making a sound or trigger Mikey's tremor sense. 

Mikey didn't stir. But just to make _super_ sure Raph waited with bated breath for a second before he tiptoed away and out of the lair. 

Nobody seemed to notice. Or at least, nobody came to intercept him or ask where he was going. Thank fuck for small mercies—Raph had anticipated running into either one of two nosy brothers, or even _Dad_ , and thought up a good dozen lies to get away. 

(Donnie alone hadn't made the list of problems he could run into. He would probably neither care nor keep Raph from doing what he wanted. Not to say Donnie was his favorite brother, because Raph loved them all equally, but sometimes he loved Donnie a little more just out of convenience.)

Raph wandered aimlessly away from the lair through the sewers, took a random manhole cover topside, looked around where he had appeared and climbed up a fire escape to the best shielded rooftop in the immediate area. There was a little storage shed which seemed perfect. It was locked with a padlock that was so flimsy that Raph could just pull it open. 

Inside it was dusty and smelled a bit of mold, but he could huddle in a corner and close the door behind him. That would have to do.

His internet connection was shitty though. With a bit of buffering, it would work, but just to make sure, he checked the surrounding WiFis. 

Don had put a simple password-testing software on all their phones just because he could. It enabled them to easily try the top ten used passwords on people's WiFi should there ever be need for it.

Luckily for Raph, someone in this apartment building didn't value their security very much. Their password honestly was just _1234_. If Don were here, he would throw his hands up in exasperation, but Raph was very thankful for an opportunity to piggyback. He thumbed in the numbers and was relieved he wouldn't have to buffer ten times the length of the video. 

The WiFi connected with decent signal and good speed. 

Mmh.

As if to mock him, his browser made him punch in every damn letter: Pornhub wasn't in his bookmarks or frequently visited pages. That wasn't because of the lack of privacy at home, but because porn—by humans, for humans, featuring humans—just didn't do it for him. 

However, out of...—shit, there was a word for it that Mikey sometimes threw around... Heteronormality? No, that wasn't it. Hetero-... something. Hetero _normativity_ , that was it!—Because of _that_ , the porn Raph _had_ looked up had always featured a guy and a girl. (Raph didn't like it. He didn't like how the girls were treated. They didn't look like they were enjoying themselves at all, and boobs were so, so weird-looking.) 

But now…

"You can just look it up," Casey had said. 

"Yeah well maybe I will," Raph muttered to himself, petulant.

He typed _gay porn_ into the search bar and hit enter. 

Unsurprisingly, there were a _lot_ of results. Raph kind of tried not to look and see too much while also scouting for a thumbnail that wasn't totally horrifying. 

Which wasn't easy. Raph was immediately uncomfortable.

Most guys looked stupid, too. Buff, but their strength built only for show. Raph had little respect for that. The body is a temple and all, sure, but if you're gonna build muscle, _use_ it goddammit. Ugh, humans were so stupid. 

There were lots of guys with a lot of hair. Raph, feeling deeply terrified, found out in that very moment that he held some unearthed curiosity for this. He wasn't brave enough to click any of the thumbnails though. Also because like all of them looked parent-aged. And, just, _no_. Noo. No no no.

The entire role-playing thing was weird to Raph as well. He saw a lot of, well, costumes? Which was _weird_.

Group sex too, group sex seemed entirely terrifying. Why were there so many videos with more than two people? The thought alone had Raph close to throwing his phone against the wall, hoping it would shatter and take his browser history with it.

Honestly, there wasn't much he thought he could stomach.

Raph wiped his face and ended clicking on a random thumbnail that had two guys that looked pretty average. Nothing too kinky either, if the ( _needlessly_ descriptive!) tags were to be believed. 

Raph watched. The intro was stupid. Two jocks in a gym shower checking each other out. Corny dialogue. Raph grimaced, but felt his pulse kicking up. He tried to breathe against it. When the guys started kissing, Raph felt his face grow hot, and he blinked a few times and looked away against the bland hardwood wall next to him. 

The video just kept rolling though, and so did the audio. Suddenly paranoid, Raph muted his phone. Last thing he needed was a resident walking in on an adolescent mutant ninja turtle watching gay porn in their rooftop storage shed. Explain any of that, jeez. 

Honestly though, whenever he gathered enough courage to peek down to his phone, it didn't look _that_ different from any hetero porn. Kissing and licking and groping; that didn't shock Raph much. So there wasn't a girl, so what. It didn't make any difference. Raph was relieved; that meant he wasn't a homophobe. Bit of an asshole, yeah, but he knew _that_ and was working on it. 

And if he was completely honest with himself, he could, distantly, appreciate that there were no boobs. Guys' chests were easier to look at, even though these two had enough pecs to have noticeable tits. But that was muscle; that was different, Raph _liked_ defined muscle.

Well, his own, anyway. Did he like it on other guys? Did that mean he was gay? He had never thought about it that way. Would he like muscles on a girl? He'd watched strongwoman competitions before and loved them. He liked women wrestling too. Did that mean he was _into_ them? He didn't think so. No, it was more an appreciation for people who honed their bodies—

And then suddenly and without warning, Raph was looking at a fully erect penis, startling him out of his thoughts. He looked away. He immediately felt stupid, and looked back again. This was nothing new, after all. He'd seen dicks before. 

He'd not seen broad, eager hands stroke said dick, and tease it, and rub over the tip, and how wet it got, and how it twitched and moved. 

Raph's own dick didn't really look like this... but the implication was clear. Raph curled his tail closer against his body, and even though this shitty shed wasn't insulated, he wasn't cold. 

The impulse to look away was strong, and Raph wasn't sure why. He mentally called himself a baby and told himself to pull through, and forced himself to watch the entire thing. 

He needed to watch. That was why he was here, after all: He needed to know what it made him feel, and why, and what to do with whatever turned out to be the answer.

Raphael sat on the floor of the shed for a long time after the video had ended and stared vacantly at a shelf full of cleaning supplies and thought. 

\--

Things with Casey were awkward at best and near unbearable at worst, even though Raphael was near _paranoid_ now about seeming weird and tried very hard not to let anyone notice. 

The damage was probably done, but even with Mikey making comments, there was no way Raphael would turn down an invitation to train at Casey's place. 

Of course, they had their daily training with Dad; six hours Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, four the rest of the week with Sundays off. But that wasn't the same as training with Casey. Raph liked to build muscle. And for that, he needed Casey's flat.

Because other people might have a bedroom, and Casey Jones was not "other people."

Casey Jones slept on a sofa bed in the living room, and what _other people_ might use as a bedroom was his gym. He had a rowing machine (that Raph had previously managed to break, but Donnie could repair thankfully), a punching bag (Raph had also previously broken it and it was taped back together), a bench press (Raph was gentle with that one, also it was probably not something he could actually _break_ ) and, since meeting the turtles, an old wooden training dummy that the boys hadn't used since their _gokkyu_ with which Raph showed Casey a few proper kata sometimes. 

But Casey's bench press was Raphael's favorite toy.

If Raph and Casey wanted to put numbers on the differences between them, they could. Casey was tall, broad and tough—but still only human. Raphael was taller, broader and tougher, and had a mutagen cocktail in his veins that gave him the possibility to drive himself further and longer. It was what made Donatello brighter than anyone else, Leonardo smarter, and _Mikey_ … 

Raph was sure if Mikey really put his mind into it, he could probably surpass all of his brothers in just about anything. Everyone who'd seen Mikey fight in earnest knew little Orange was _dangerous_. It was just that Mikey was _content_ with being the baby brother who didn't excel at anything (besides art and cooking). 

Point was—Raphael and Casey didn't compare. 

Not actively, anyway. Spotting for Raphael brought everything to the forefront though, at least for Casey. If Raph dropped his weights, there... honestly wasn't all that much Casey could do, besides maybe call Leo and hope one of his mutant brothers was fit enough to get Raph free.

It stopped neither of them from doing it, though.

"Okay Raph, give me another rep," Casey said cheerfully, giving Raph's cheek an encouraging little clap. "Ten more."

Raph was already in that zone where speech was impossible. He grunted through gritted teeth. He lifted another two, three. His face was dark with blood flow. Raphael's epidermis was thick and leathery, with something like soft scales or maybe just very hard skin. And yet, the veins underneath were bulging with their effort to pump blood and oxygen through his body for his workout. 

Raph lifted another five, six, seven, he ground his teeth together with a sound that made Casey's neck hair stand on edge, he lifted eight, and Casey cheered him on, transfixed on that sheer determination in those lime-green eyes, staring at some point past Casey at the ceiling. Raph lifted nine, exhaling sharply and sucking in another breath in a grunt, and he lifted ten, and set the weights carefully, _gently_ back into their holder.

He slumped into a _puddle_.

Casey hooted and threw a towel on Raphael's head and put a bottle of water on his heaving plastron. "Nice job, dude," he said, patting Raph's arm. "That's a new record!"

"Fuck yeah!" Raph wheezed with a very weak fist pump. 

The towel Casey had thrown over his face wasn't for drying off but was instead damp; Casey had drenched it under cold water. As a reptile, Raphael didn't sweat and instead needed to be careful he didn't overheat. 

It felt like bliss to get cooled down and Raphael was content just lying there for a second, already imagining how he'd get home later and tell his brothers and Dad he'd broken his own record again. 

"You'll be sore in the morning," Casey chuckled, sitting down next to Raph on the floor, content to wait for him.

"'s my favorite thing t' be," muttered Raph. Slowly, very slowly, he moved; wiping the towel around his face and head and neck to cool his pulse, and then he dropped it to the floor as if holding it was too much effort. He went to unscrew the bottle, still laying flat on his shell and not moving a muscle he didn't need to.

"Spoken like a true exercise nut," said Casey. "Or a masochist."

For that, Raph kicked him. But weakly. He was still drinking.

Casey barely wobbled. "What? It's the same!"

"Oh and you know, yeah?" grunted Raph, who had effectively guzzled the entire bottle in one gulp. 

"Yeah man, 'course."

"No, don't," groaned Raph. "Please just, no more, I can't and won't deal with this. Don't sully my new record with this, dude."

Casey snickered. "Sully!" he exclaimed, indignant. "Without me, you wouldn't _have_ a new record, asshole. Be grateful!"

"Whatever," said Raph, and grabbed the entirety of Casey' s face to shove him away. Casey laughed, flailed as he struggled to resist Raph's strength, and pushed back at him.

Usually that would have been futile, because shoving at Raph was like trying to shove at a SUV, but right now, Raph was still on his back—on his convex shell—and sore and tired from lifting. He yelped in alarm as his hard shell skidded on the plastic back rest of the bench press, and in a tumble of limbs careened to the floor.

Casey crowed with delight. Taking a mutant ninja turtle down, even via cheap tricks, was definitely a victory in his book. "Oh _damn_ ," he hooted. "Casey Jones one, Raphael Hamato fuckin' _zero_!"

"You kiddin' me, asshat?" Raph kicked his legs out from under him and Casey toppled over like a Jenga tower. Before he could roll to recover, Raph was on him with a snarl, grappling him into a hold.

Casey tried to weasel away, using his flexibility as an advantage, but even though Raphael had a hard shell, he had years and years of training to know how to work around this against a more nimble partner. They rolled around the floor in a tangle of limbs and chuckled insults.

"Jesus Christ get _offa_ me you big tortoise!" Casey wheezed, red in the face with laughter and exertion as he tried to get his hands into Raph's face to push him away.

" _Snapping turtle_ ," Raph growled and _actually_ snapped at Casey's fingers with his beak. Casey only just managed to draw his hands back with an indignant squawk. 

"Holy shit, what the _fuck_ , dude!"

"That's what you fuckin' _get_ when you're being racist, asshole!"

"Not this again!" Casey laughed, and managed to sneak his legs under Raph's plastron. 

He was barefoot so he found purchase between the ridges of his scutes and started _pushing_ , hands clasped tightly around the upper lip of Raphael's plastron for support.

"Whoa," said Raph, feeling himself be levered into the air. That was actually very impressive. Raph had no illusions about his weight. "You've not skipped leg day, huh."

"Oh I'm havin' regrets already," Casey wheezed. "You're so fucking heavy. I'mma die."

"Nah, you can do it," said Raph, complacent where he was and going as far as lifting his legs off the ground and folding them against himself. "C'mon."

Casey wobbled with the added weight. "I'm not warmed up, I'mma pull a muscle," he groaned. In his defense, he was still holding Raphael up as good as he could. 

"No warm-up before brawls in the streets either," Raph said. "Don't be such a wuss."

"Nope," Casey decided through his teeth. "Nope, Raph—" 

And Raph felt how Casey's strength gave out, and had a split second to catch himself. He got his hands and feet the ground in time by sheer ninja reflexes. He held himself, a little awkwardly, perched over Casey on all fours. 

Casey looked up at him, a little shaken; both by the exertion and a lingering fear of dropping a very big, very heavy mutant turtle on himself.

"You good?" asked Raph softly, genuinely worried. 

Casey groaned but nodded. "Yeah," he said as he relaxed slowly, relief flooding his system. He rubbed his biceps on both sides of himself. "That was really dumb," he admitted then. "Oh, I'm gonna feel that tomorrow."

Raph snorted. "Probably," he said. He very carefully sunk back on his heels and helped Casey sit up. "Don't try and lift me, jerkass," he said reproachfully, but grinned.

Casey groaned as Raph steadied him with his hands on both shoulders. "Dunno man, I thought you deserved the _Dirty Dancing_ move yourself, I guess," he said, a bit lamely still. 

Raph made a face. "Ha, ha, thanks but no thanks." 

"Don't be like that," said Casey. "It'd be super romantic." Raph was still close, making doubly sure he wouldn't, what, up and die from overexertion. 

Raph snorted. "Yeah sorry if I don't buy it, I'm pretty sure your idea of romance is, dunno—"

"Burgers and a game, usually," said Casey. "And don't say you don't like it, I know you do." 

Raph looked a little pained. "Dammit Casey..."

Casey still felt a bit woozy, so Raph's hands on his shoulders, the skin on skin contact, felt nice, grounding, and—

Oh, well, no. No, that wouldn't do. That was just— _dammit._

He'd started to chub. Not a lot. But enough to show through the soft fabric of his sweatpants. 

And because he looked down, Raph followed along, and now they were both staring.

Raph withdrew his hands slowly.

"Whoops," said Casey, more nonchalantly than he felt. He scooted backwards on his butt, away from Raph. Distance between them seemed very important suddenly. "See, now you got me all worked up, talking about romance and stuff. Dammit, Raph."

"I—what?" asked Raph, startled, panicked. "No, I didn't do anything, I—"

"No, I—it was a _joke_ , Raph, Christ." Casey wiped his hands down his face with an anxious little chuckle. Raphael was staring at him, cagey, intently. Casey got up on his feet and brushed himself off. "Uhm. Hey, gimme a sec, I'll, uh..."

Raph rose next to him like a predator. "Take a cold shower? Rub one out? What?"

"Uh," said Casey lamely, letting his arms fall uselessly to his sides. He didn't know what to do with them. "One of those," he said, going for a dumb joke. "I'll leave to your imagination which one."

Raph didn't laugh and didn't get grossed out, which was the total sum of reactions Casey had braced himself for. Instead, he crossed his arms in front of himself impressively and said, "Well, _fuck_ , lemme help."

"What," said Casey.

"I _said_ —" said Raph, inhaling, and what had seemed a little feeble at first seemed to take root now and his features hardened with determination. "Lemme help."

"Uh," said Casey, sure there was a misunderstanding here _somewhere_. "With what?"

Raph rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "The jerking off, idiot," he said.

"Why... would you..." asked Casey dumbly.

"Why not? You said it's not a big deal between guys." Raphael's defensive barrier came off in an offensive finger point that had Casey jerking backward a little. "You said you could just go and ask a guy and it's all cool! So don't go and make shit _complicated_ now!"

Casey looked around his little gym like he was expecting some great reveal of a hidden camera prank or something, but nothing happened. There was just him, and Raph, and a weird, tense stretch of silence between them. 

Casey looked at Raph. Raph looked back. He was big and immovable like a fucking mountain. Casey could smell him, his scent, across the room; warm and tangy, a little earthy and salty, and _familiar_.

 _I know what he smells like_ , Casey realized in an absurd moment of gay panic.

"Raph," he said, trying for reasonable and knowing he was failing. "Look, it's _not_ , but... I... Why—why would you—? What the _fuck_ , Raph—"

"Fine then," sneered Raph. "I'mma bounce." His face was dark, but at this point it was hard to tell if that was rage or embarrassment. Probably both.

"Raph, don't—" groaned Casey, exasperated. "What the fuck, now you're _leaving_?"

"Yeah I'm fuckin’ leaving!" said Raph. "Since clearly you don't _want_ me here—"

"I said _nothing_ about—" Casey argued, and watched as Raphael stomped out of the gym. 

Casey followed. "Raph, what the fuck," he said, watching as Raph pulled open the window by the fire escape. "Hey. _Listen_ to me," he said angrily and grabbed Raph when clearly, he didn't. "Don't be an _asshole_ , it's just a boner."

"'It's just a boner,'" Raph parroted sarcastically. " _Is it_?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Casey, throwing up his arms in exasperation.

"So it means _nothing_?!" Raphael said, _growled_ it.

"Yes!" pleaded Casey, hand still on Raphael's bicep. It seemed weird suddenly. He drew his hand back. Raphael stared at him from small, laser green eyes, and for all his aggression he looked surprisingly vulnerable. 

Casey wasn't a smart man. He was only a mechanic with a GED but right then, something clicked into place.

"God," he muttered, realization dawning. "Okay, _fine_. You wanna do this?"

Raph gave a single, minute nod. 

"What the fuck," said Casey. "Okay. Okay. Okay. Close the window, close the fucking _blinds_."

Raphael did so as Casey turned around, standing in the middle of his living room and wondering what the fuck was happening. 

Casey stared at his feet, past the bulge in his sweatpants. Honestly, over the past minutes what little erection he'd had was basically gone now, but he could feel his pulse kick up just from the tension in the air. Dicks were _traitors_. 

"Are you _sure_ about his?" he asked, and looked up, and almost jumped out of his skin when Raph was next to him suddenly. _Damn_ that ninja stealth!

"Yes," said Raph. "How's this work?"

"What; you're askin' _me_?" Casey asked, almost laughing with nervousness. 

"It's been established that you have a lot more experience than me, so, _yes_ I'm askin' you, jerkass," said Raph impatiently. 

"Jesus Christ," muttered Casey, and reached down to open the flimsy knot that held his sweatpants on his hips. They slid to his thighs where it got stuck over the broadness of his muscles. 

Casey hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers and looked at Raph again, looking for confirmation, but Raph wasn't looking at him anymore, he was staring down at him and didn't move, didn't blink. 

Casey tugged his underwear down. 

It wasn't an unusual sight for Casey, not really. Stripping down with a hard on happened often enough in the life of a young man. What was getting to him was the presence of his best buddy ( _very suddenly_ confirmed as bi-curious, at least?!) who also happened to be a giant mutant turtle. 

"Hm," said Raph, looking down at him. "Not very impressive."

"Dude I am gonna sock you in the fuckin' teeth," said Casey, momentarily baffled out of his shock. "That's _not_ what you say when you see a guy's dick for the first time. Besides, you're stressin' me the fuck out, nobody can hold a boner like that!"

Raph shrugged dismissively. "Fine." 

And then, just like that, he reached down and curled his fingers around Casey's half-hard penis.

Casey jumped a little, gasping. Raphael's fingers were big and strong; green, too, and only three of them, but who cared about that, really? Casey couldn't, not in that very moment.

"Huh," said Raph. He was right next to Casey. Casey could feel his breath on his shoulder, where his tank top didn't cover it. It was warm. And damp. And kinda nice. 

"'Huh' what?" muttered Casey, noticing that he got really weak in the knees.

"Feels different than I thought," said Raph, as if this was the normalest fucking situation to be in.

"Yeah?" asked Casey simply, because this was apparently his life now, so what else could he do but roll with it?

"Yeah," said Raph. He didn't look at him, he looked down to where he was holding Casey's cock in hand and then started stroking.

Casey almost choked on his breath and made a desperate grapple for Raphael's arm to steady himself.

"Like so?" asked Raph. His grip was a little untrained—and wasn't that a first!—but his fingers were strong and big. Easy to cover an average cock. A human one, anyway. 

And maybe it was all the blood leaving Casey's brain but he suddenly wondered what Raph's dick was like and somehow even now, that felt weirdly inappropriate. Casey looked up, staring at the opposite wall and blinking a few times.

"Y-yeah," he stammered quickly, trying to think of something, anything else. He kept himself steady with one arm grasping Raph, and with the other, he grabbed down to guide Raph's fingers. "Here, lemme... Like this—"

"Hrm," grunted Raph. Little surprisingly, he learned quickly. Casey bit down on his lips and clamped his eyes shut, shaking with the effort to support himself on increasingly weak knees.

He jumped when Raph reached around him, grabbed his waist and steadied him with his free hand. Casey allowed himself to sag a little, and Raph carried his weight easily. 

"Thanks," said Casey, because it seemed fair, and everything was weird anyway.

"No prob," muttered Raph.

What was even happening? Casey wondered, and then Raph's thumb did _something_ and Casey decided not to care about that, right now. He would have plenty of time to worry about it when they were done. 

"Pull the—pull the foreskin back," he said. Raph tried. Casey helped. 

"'s that better?" asked Raph.

"Yeah," muttered Casey, and let his head fall against Raph's shoulder. 

Raph grunted in lieu of an actual answer. He was still looking nowhere but at what he was doing, and Casey had the crazy idea just to watch him for a moment from his (admittedly quite comfortable) position nestled against Raphael's side.

Raph's cheeks and throat were dark, frowning a little with a tight-lipped scowl that was closer to concentration than distaste. His eyes were hooded but attentive, and his pupils so blown that they swallowed most of the laser-green irises. Casey knew Raph's features in all possible combinations but this was _new_ , and Casey felt a deep pull at the base of his spine, all the way to the tip of his cock.

"Fuck." Casey's hips stuttered against Raph's hand without him having any say in the matter. 

"Hn?" grunted Raph, eyes flicking toward his face for just a second. Well, thank fuck, at least he was nervous about this too, apparently!

"No, just—keep going," muttered Casey, and wiped a hand down his face. "You're good," he added, because, knowing Raph, he needed to actually hear it.

Raph nodded without answering, eyes glazing over a little as the compliment sank in. 

Casey wanted to laugh. Okay, Raph was still Raph, that was a relief, at least. As it were, he was too out of breath to. 

The dry handjob became a lot better now that Casey was leaking precome, and Raph had no problem collecting it from the tip and spreading it around like muscle balm.

 _This is going to be so fucking weird when this is over_ , Casey thought, distantly. He wanted to chase his release but that would mean it'd be over. It'd mean Raph would release the arm around his waist, and step away, and they would have to fucking talk about this, and Casey wasn't prepared, he wasn't ready.

He had one arm wrapped around Raph, hanging on to the lip of his shell, and the other hand loosely around Raph's knuckles.

Raph's breath was slow and even, with the control of a fucking ninja, but his nostrils flared with every inhale, like he was _tasting_ him through the air.

Casey didn't have Raph's sense of smell, but even to him the stench of sex was thick and musky and overpowering.

There was very little he could do, ultimately. 

When he came, he ejaculated over Raphael's fingers. He clung to him, teeth clenched and eyes pressed shut, and rode it out until he was done. 

Casey panted, brain blissfully empty for a few seconds.

Ad then he realized Raph was still holding him with one arm wrapped around him.

Casey carefully put his weight back on his own feet.

Raph let him go, one hand hovering behind his back with a care and gentleness that was usually reserved for April, and wasn't _that_ a wild realization to have.

Casey tucked himself back into his pants. Raphael used the towel from his workout to wipe his fingers clean.

And just when Casey thought that this was it, it was all going to be different now, Raph sniffed a little and said, like nothing at all out of the ordinary had happened in the last half hour or so, "Mind if I use your shower?"

"Go ahead," said Casey, running on autopilot, and Raph nodded and left for the bathroom.

Casey remained standing where he was until he heard the water running. Only then could he summon the strength and coherence to make his body follow his instructions and went into the kitchen to grab a beer.

By the time Raph left the bathroom, he was through the first bottle and halfway through the second, just sitting on the couch and staring into the void.

Raph smelled like his shower gel when he passed him. Casey watched carefully. Neither of them said a thing. 

Casey was halfway through believing Raph would bail wordlessly, but instead of going for the window, he vanished into the kitchen. Casey heard the fridge open, then close, and Raph reappeared in the living room with a bottle of beer. 

Underage drinking _really_ wasn't what he was worried about right now, so Casey said nothing and watched as Raph came to sit next to him on the couch. 

Casey had a moment to wonder whether Raph would leave a discernible amount of space between them, or sit unusually close, or otherwise if it would be weird.

Raph sat like always. Their knees brushed when Raph relaxed into the cushions as he drank his beer.

"Don't make hydrating with alcohol a thing," said Casey, which was honest to god the only thing he knew for sure in that moment.

Raph scoffed. "I'm not an idiot, Casey," he said. "I hung at the faucet for like a full minute." He took another sip, then shrugged a little. "'sides, you seriously think I could get away with drinking at home? Dad would _own_ my ass. He can sniff that stuff out like a bloodhound. Mikey once tried to hide chocolate under his mattress when we were younger and Dad grounded him for a week."

"That sounds like him," chuckled Casey, and on reflex—them, on the couch, amicably, sharing beer and stories—grabbed the remote to look for something they could watch.

\--

When Raph returned to the lair, he listened at the entrance for a moment.

Everything was quiet. Not even Donatello was up anymore, typing away at his computer or tinkering with something. Everyone had already gone to bed.

Raph ninja-tiptoed to his and Mike's bed, slid into his upper bunk without a sound, shoveled his blankets over himself and went to sleep.

Only he didn't.

He was too amped up to even close his eyes. His lids just kept fluttering and twitching, and so Raph lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Holy shit.

Holy _shit_ he'd jerked off Casey. His best friend! He had jerked off his best friend.

What did that mean? Did it even _mean_ anything? No, it didn't, wasn't that the point? 

But it _had_ to, right? Guys didn't just casually jerk each other off after a workout. No, no way.

 _But_ Casey said it _was_ all pretty casual, right? That was the point, he'd said. He didn't want a relationship with a guy, he just wanted uncomplicated sex.

Oh God he'd had sex with his best friend. It had been sex, right? A handjob counted. 

Did it?

What if it _didn't_? Did that mean that what had happened didn't matter? Casey seemed cool about it, so maybe it didn't? But Raph was kinda freaking out! Didn't that mean that it meant something? 

But _what_? 

What in the _fuck_ had Raph been _thinking_?!

Raph rubbed his hands over his face and pressed his palms against his eyes. His head hurt, but he was sure that was because of the booze. Don't hydrate with beer, and all that.

"Dude," whispered Mikey into the darkness, and Raph nearly jumped out of his shell.

"Mikey! What the fuck?" he hissed, once he was sure he wasn't dying of a heart attack.

"Dude, what did you do?" asked Orange, followed by rustling in the darkness.

Raph grabbed his blanket to wrap himself up and turn away from where Mikey was peering over the edge of his bunk. "I was at Casey's," he grunted. "Lemme sleep."

Mikey remained where he was. "You smell weird."

Raph tensed. "Took a shower and used his soap," he said, which seemed fair enough and wasn't even a lie.

"No man, not that. You smell like—musky or something," said Mikey.

There was a stretch of silence. Raph didn't dare to breathe, and Mikey was aligning all the puzzle pieces until he scored a tetris.

Littlest brother jumped out of the bed and half-climbed into Raph's. "Ohmigosh!" he squeaked, way, _way_ too loud for the hour and Raph's taste.

Raph slapped his hand over Mike's mouth before he word-barfed. "Mikey!" he hissed, feeling tension lock him up from his scalp to the tip of his tail. "Shut! _Up_! You'll wake everyone."

Big, giant, gigantic blue sparkling eyes pleaded, _but Raaaph!_

“I swear if you say another word I will strangle you with your pillow!” Raph snarled. “Be fuckin’ _quiet_ , idiot!”

Mikey nodded his head frantically.

Raph carefully started to lift his hand away, and Mikey took a big breath, and Raph slapped his palm back over his mouth.

Mikey whined in protest, pulling at Raph's hand.

"Not. A. Word!" hissed Raph, and very slowly lifted his hand away.

"Raph," Mikey squawked, voice cracking, but at least he whispered now. "What did you _do_?"

"Nothing," growled Raph, trying to shove Mikey out of his bunk, but his brother could be very persistent if he set his mind to it. "Go back to sleep."

"Don't lie to me!" whined Mikey, shaking Raph's shoulder. "What, what did you do; did you kiss? Am I smelling first base on you bro?" Raph didn't answer, didn't turn around, just kind of walled himself up and froze in place. "Oh. My god. _Second base_?" shrieked Mikey. "Raph!!"

"Shut up, Mikey!" roared Raph, not particularly caring about his volume anymore.

"Raph! You have to tell me. It's a question of Ninja Honor! Raph!"

Raph swung his legs out of his bed, pushed past Mikey, and fled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, fuck. What the hell, Raph?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the writing rules I adhere to is "don't leave your protagonist alone" because that's how you effectively bring all your plot to a halt. But also, Raphael avoids Leonardo where he can with how things are, and I think Donnie might be avoiding Raphael a little bit? Mikey is the only one who really, really wants to be here for everything that's happening, so that's why Orange is so damn prominent in this fic. I try to force equal screen time on everyone, but Mikey _volunteers_.

Leo's day began early. First thing he did after waking was make his bed, then he sat down to meditate for half an hour. After that, he formally got up and got dressed, and while he set water to boil in the kitchen, he went to wash up. Then he brought Dad his morning tea, and maybe did some Tai Chi with him. 

By then his brothers rolled out of their beds as well. Mikey was usually first, chowing down on his first breakfast, and starting his second when Raph came around, who usually went to wake Donnie.

Today, Leo came to the kitchen to find Mikey and Donnie, but no Raph.

Leo felt a wave of disappointment, and worry, and let it wash over him, and watched it go. 

"Good morning," he said as he joined his brothers. 

"Morning, Leo," they chorused. Donnie was reading the paper. Mikey was watching Leo, who noticed and pretended he didn't. 

Halfway through preparing himself a bowl of rice and miso and still one brother short, Leo calmly asked, "Where's Raph?"

Mikey stopped eating, his cereal dropping from his spoon. He looked immaculately guilty.

Leo sighed inwardly. Okay, so Mikey was definitely involved. That eased Leo's nerves somewhat, but opened a new Pandora's Box of possible problems at the same time.

"Mikey and Raph had an argument last night," Donnie provided without looking up from the newspaper.

Leo carefully blew on his miso and fixed Mikey over the bowl with eyes that could cut through steel.

"Oh, no, nonono," said Mikey quickly, spreading his hands out pleadingly. "Nothing like that!"

"I thought Raph sounded pretty tense," said Donnie, oblivious even when Mikey kicked him under the table. "What?"

"Snitch!" hissed Mikey. "Shut up!"

"Donnie," said Leo, without taking his gaze off Mikey, "what happened?"

"I don't know," said Donnie, fighting off Orange who tried to get his hands over his mouth. "Raph came home late from Casey's, and then Mikey started yelling, and then _Raph_ started yelling, and then he left in a hurry—"

"Mikey?" demanded Leo gravelly.

"It was nothing!" yelped Mikey. "I... He woke me up and I said he was being loud and Raph called me an idiot and I said no _you're_ the idiot and he said, Mikey I've had it with you—"

"I think I heard something about _baseball_?" Donnie asked, rubbing his chin.

Leo's perfectly calm, regulated expression slipped as he lifted an eyebrow.

"There was a rerun last night!" Mikey squeaked, and slapped his hands over his own mouth as if to stop himself from saying any more.

"You were only arguing because he woke you up?" Leo demanded.

Mikey nodded so eagerly he dislodged his mask. 

"Since when does he care?" Leo wanted to know. "Why did he leave?" 

Mikey made a little noise and shrugged his shoulders as he put the mask back in place.

Leo sighed. "Do we need to _look_ for him?" he asked. "Mikey. Look me in the eye. Is it serious? Do I need to be _worried_?"

"No," said Mikey, sounding sincere even as he sat on his hands. "He's fine. I was just... being stupid I think and he took off to get away because I didn't shut up."

Leo gave him another long hard stare, but even though Mikey looked positively sick with guilt, he didn't say any more and firmly held Leo's gaze. Leo then looked at Donnie, who just shrugged, and then sighed again. "If he shows up before training I'll let this slide. If he doesn't, we have to look for him."

Splinter, with the perfect bad timing inherent to all parents throughout time, chose that moment to shuffle into the kitchen. "Look for whom?" he asked, saw his three present sons, saw one child missing, and sighed a little. "What happened?"

"Nothing, Dad," said Leo, shielding Mikey who shrunk down far enough to retract his head into his shell. "Raph is just, uhm—"

"Gone without saying so?" finished Splinter for him, and Leo looked a little sheepish but bowed his head a little; both acknowledgement and apology. 

Splinter nodded and went to make new tea. "Do not apologize, Leonardo," he said, giving his oldest a pat on the arm. "You're not at fault for your brothers' personalities. Raphael needs time to himself. As do all of you, by the way. It just shows differently in each of you. Leonardo, you meditate. Donatello throws himself into his work, and Michelangelo into his games. Raphael will wander. Let him."

"Yes Sensei," said Leo stiffly. "Only _he's_ the only one who leaves the lair for his alone time," he added a little sourly.

"' _Alone time_ ,'" muttered Mikey sarcastically against the inside of his plastron and was lucky that nobody noticed or thought it was worth questioning.

With Dad deciding they would not look for Raphael before he remained lost, they continued their breakfast. 

When Red shuffled into the kitchen only a few minutes later, everyone looked up to stare at him, each with a different range of expression.

Raphael stopped awkwardly. "Mornin'," he muttered, rubbing his neck as he stared at his feet.

"Good morning Raphael," said Splinter gently, indicating the empty seat at the table with a paw. "Sit. Eat. I trust you are well?"

"Yes Dad," said Raph with a quiet voice as he took his place next to Donnie. He looked like he hadn't slept much. 

Leo handed him a mug of coffee and didn't say a single word. Mikey popped toast into the toaster for him. Raph fiddled with the string of his sweatpants. Donnie was busy with a Sudoku in the paper. Leo sipped his miso with more slurping than was necessary even for Japanese culture and stared at Red over the rim of his bowl. 

Mikey hummed softly to himself, rocking back and forth. He very pointedly did not make eye contact with Raphael, who sat across from him. Raph drank his coffee and ate half of a toast dry and pretended nothing was weird with steely resolve. 

Splinter cleared his throat. "Your brothers were worried about you," he said. "I think they deserve to have their minds eased."

"I wasn't worried," squeaked Mikey, and Donnie looked up like he hadn't even realized that something to be worried about had happened, but Splinter just raised a paw to let Raphael speak.

"I, uh," said Raph, going pale in the face. "I, I—th—wh—"

"He drank!" yelped Mikey. "He came home and he smelled of beer!"

Raph stared at him with a mix of shock and surprise, then slowly dawning realization. "Uh," he said, and very carefully looked back at his father. "Y-yeah."

Splinter narrowed his eyes a little. Leo looked hilariously appalled, mouth hanging open in shock. Donnie just rolled his eyes and went back to his Sudoku.

"Yeah, I—" Raph took a deep breath. "I uh, I had a few beers at Casey's place. I know I shouldn't've. Sorry Pops." He looked down at the table, blinking heavily. He looked guilty and awkward.

Splinter looked over to Mikey who looked about ready to break down into tears with stress, lip quivering as he bravely endured his father's testing stare. He didn't say any more.

"I see," said Splinter eventually, smoothly, without any indication that he was mad, or worse, _disappointed_. "Raphael, I feel like some punishment is in order. I know you think yourself an adult now, but you're still not of legal drinking age."

"Yes Pops," muttered Raph, head bowed.

"You're grounded," said Splinter, and Raph's shoulder sagged a little in soft relief, and then Splinter added, "And no working out," which was _considerably_ worse. Even Donnie looked up uncertainly, to check if his father was serious, if Raph was gonna protest.

Raph just nodded, accepting his fate, hands and gaze in his lap.

"It will give you time to meditate on your mistake," added Splinter. "And I shall have a conversation with Mr Jones as well."

"Aw, Dad, no—" Raph begged. "It's not—he's not—"

"And you—" said Splinter, turning to his youngest who quickly shrunk back into his shell, peering anxiously over the edge of his plastron, "Michelangelo. You should not give up your brother like this."

"Dad!" protested Raph. "No. Don't punish Mikey for what I did—"

"It's fine," muttered Mikey, plopping his head back out and resting his cheek against his hand with a sigh. "I accept my fate."

"Good," said Splinter. "I want you to stay with Raphael, to spend time together and to remind you that you are brothers."

"Yes Dad," said Mikey. It wasn't real punishment, and they all knew it. Mikey loved spending time with all of his brothers, and this mostly meant that he was supposed to make sure Raph didn't go stir-crazy.

Dad really was going easy on both of them.

\--

Morning practice was tense, and they all noticed it. But practice was not the time for talking, and all questions between the brothers were left unsaid. Dad was a gentle man but his work ethic was entirely Japanese, and he made them train hard. By the time it was time for their lunch break, they all had a few new bruises and were too exhausted for conversation. 

Mikey was usually excused half an hour early because he was the one to prepare their food. And because Raph was his protégé today, he was expected to help with cooking. Neither brother was happy with this.

On the one hand, Raph thought as he angrily chopped carrots into clunky, irregular shapes, he was glad that it was Mikey who was appointed his babysitter. Leo would've been much worse as far as the awkwardness of the whole situation was concerned, but also, at least Leo didn't _know_. Mikey did, and though he hadn't said anything so far, every time Raph wasn't looking, he could feel Mikey's stare on his shell, boring into him like lasers. 

"Those poor carrots have done _nothing_ to you, Raphael," Mikey said, taking the knife out of his brother's hand impatiently. "Can't you at least _try_ to chop them into the same size? They'll cook unevenly otherwise!"

"I don't care," muttered Raph sourly, more than happy to relinquish the knife to moodily sit at the table instead as Mikey attempted to save what was salvageable. 

"You will though when it tastes bad," Mikey muttered. "And then you're gonna blame _me_ and I'm not putting up with your shit today, not after what you did."

Leo and Dad were still in the dojo, doing katas or meditating or projecting onto the Astral Plane or whatever it was they did when they were alone. Donnie had scurried away into the lab, the sounds of welding audible through the ajar door.

It was just them in the kitchen.

Raph fiddled with a screwdriver Donnie had left on the table. 

"It's dumb you got into trouble 'cuz'a me," he muttered finally. "Dad's being unfair."

"For a poor definition of 'trouble,'" said Mikey, carefully putting the carrots into the pan of stir-fry. "I'm more worried you'll ruin lunch. Leo cuts veggies much better than you."

"He's the one with blades for weapons, not me," said Raph sourly. "Cutting things ain't my job. I punch shit."

"I should have made mashed potatoes," Mikey sighed dramatically. "Lesson learned. Thanks, Dad."

Raph snickered to himself, and Mikey's shoulders loosened a little as he joined in the fragile laughter. 

Raph sighed and rubbed his face. "Hey," he said carefully, and Mikey half-turned as he wrapped his apron around himself—it had a giant naked beer belly printed on it which Mikey, and Mikey _only_ , thought was hilarious, and Raph stared at it and tried to scrounge some coherent thought together faced with the absurdity of it. 

"Look," he said finally, softly. "Sorry for all of this, yeah? And, uh... th- thanks."

Mikey tensed, hands slowly coming to his sides as he was done tying the bow over his shell. "For what?" he asked carefully.

"For not..." Raph shrugged uncomfortably. "Y'know."

"I _don't_ know," said Mikey, a little testily.

Raph stared along his beak and said nothing.

"Well," said Mikey then, dryly. "You're welcome. I would never rat you out. Which makes it extra dumb that I'm getting punished for exactly that, huh."

"I know," muttered Raph guiltily. "Sorry."

Mikey cleared his throat a little and turned back to the stove. "You know what; since we're having such a lovely heart-to-heart, I'm just gonna say it: I think it's _so_ unfair," he admitted. "That you get to do whatever you did, I mean. And I know that you did _something_! You can try to deny it all you want but you're a terrible liar, probably worse than Leo."

Raph grimaced, and for a moment the sizzle of fat and frying veggies was all the noise there was. 

"Look," said Raph finally, rubbing his face under the mask until it was dislodged and crooked and he just pulled it off. "I don't know what you _think_ happened but it's not that."

Mikey turned around to stare at him with wide eyes. "You kissed, didn't you?" he whispered.

"No," answered Raph, and when Mikey stared at him disbelievingly, repeated louder, "No!"

"Then what _did_ you do?" whined Mikey. "Come _on_ , Raph!"

"Dammit Mikey," hissed Raph uncomfortably. "I'm not gonna—why the _fuck_ would I—" 

And then something occurred to him, and he wagged a finger warningly in Mike's direction. "And don't you go bothering _Casey_ with this shit, either! It's bad enough that Dad wants to talk to him like I'm a fucking child and can't decide shit for my own."

"Imagine the conversation if Dad knew this wasn't about _beer_ ," said Mikey sourly, which was a very valid point and made Raph snap his beak shut.

Seemingly confident his dish could survive without him for a moment, Mikey came to sit at the table with Raph, arms crossed over his printed-on apron that did nothing for Raph but add to his anxiety. Raph stared at a random spot on the floor, feeling hot and uncomfortable under Mikey's scrutinizing gaze.

"I should tell Leo," said Mikey, like a petulant little kid.

"You're not telling anyone _shit_ , least of all Leo!" growled Raph. "What was that about not blabbin' shit out all the time, huh? You fuckin' promised! The fuck do you think you are; holdin' me accountable for my shit but not caring about your own?" 

"Yeah well maybe just _tell_ me what's up so I know what I'm supposed to _do_!" said Mikey. "Do you think you're the only one freaking out?"

"You're not 'supposed' to do anything besides keepin' yer mouth shut!" said Raph angrily. "What I do 's non'a yer goddamn business."

"Dude, do you seriously not get the _importance_ of this?" Mikey asked, leaning forward. His voice was agitated now, wavering. 

He was in Raphael's personal space suddenly, and Raph shoved him away bodily, freaked out by the close contact in such a tense situation.

Mikey didn't seem to notice, or care. "We're _mutant turtles_ , Raph; you're usually the first to point out what freaks we are, and if _one_ of us manages to score that means _any_ of us might score, and that's kind of a _big fucking deal_!" he said intently, hands clasped around the lip of Raph's plastron, ignoring his brother's discomfort. 

"Get _over_ yourself, man. I'm not big on imagining you doing the two-backed beast with _Casey_ of all people—I mean I love him and you know that but _yikes_ Raph—but it's not like I can just search 'mutant turtle getting jerked off' on Pornhub!"

Raph stared at Mikey, whose blue eyes were stormy with emotion. The close contact made Raph uncomfortable, made him want to throw Mikey off—and he _could_ , he knew he could, Michelangelo weighted basically nothing. Raph just gripped his plastron to keep him at arm's length and didn't do anything. 

"I need to know if I can _hope_ , Raph," Mikey pleaded. " _Please_."

Raphael's mouth was dry. His tongue felt numb. He stared at his little brother, speechless. Mikey's eyes were more human than his own; his sclera pearly white and his iris sky blue. ("How?" Donatello would always ask, baffled over where the hell the necessary DNA had come from.) But for all his perfectly human eyes, Michelangelo, too, was a mutant turtle: scaly and green and saddled with a shell and a total of six fingers that Donnie also always muttered didn't make much sense as far evolution was concerned. 

Mikey had yellow patterning over his body that he called _freckles_ even though all of them knew it wasn't. Raph thought Mikey was cute, like all small and innocent things were cute, but he was a turtle, and they lived in the sewers, where nobody could ever see them, and do them harm. In the almost twenty years of their existence, only two humans had ever met them, and were their only friends.

Apart from this, it was very likely they would remain alone, on their own, dependent on only each other, forever. 

And Raphael, too, felt this, like they all did: This deep-rooted knowledge, the bleak outlook on their future, all four of them already resigned to their chances. And Raphael didn't even _care_ for romance.

"We, uh," he said, and he blinked heavily as he stared down, away, at _anything_ but Mikey's face. "Yeah, we, uh... we did some... stuff."

Mikey stared in wild disbelief. Then relief washed over his face, easing his features back to his usual softness. He let go of Raph, and sank back into the chair as all tension left him.

"Wow," he said, palms open on his legs, shoulders drooping.

Raph was the opposite, twisted up like a pretzel in discomfort. "Don't... tell anyone," he pleaded softly. "Mikey. _Don't_ tell anyone."

"No, of course." Mikey turned his head, and his eyes were big and huge and compassionate. "Wow, Raph."

Raph fidgeted uncomfortably, a shade or ten darker in the face with embarrassment and guilt as he stared at the floor.

"Are you _okay_?" Mikey asked him. 

Raph shrugged. He nodded. He carefully raised his gaze to look at Mikey, who had overcome his bout of existential dread and was smiling again; _beaming_ , really, and Raph regretted every single word that had come out of his mouth.

"So," Orange said cheerfully. "How'd it go? Like, did he _ask_ you? I mean, how does it really happen? Like, no way it's like in porn. Right? Like, _no_ way. You have to communicate and stuff, right?"

"Uh," said Raph, realizing Casey and him had barely communicated anything at all.

Mikey, clearly not super interested in Raph's part of the conversation, snickered to himself. "You know what would be super funny?" he asked, nudging Raph with his foot. "If _you_ had actually asked." 

Raph was too petrified to say anything.

"'Hey Casey,'" said Mikey, pitching his voice deep in his best worst Raph-impression. "'Let's fuck. That cool with ya bro? Cool. C'mere bro. Imma kiss you on the lips, bro. Shut up.'"

"I don't sound like that," protested Raph, offended. The shame he felt teetered on the edge and was about to plummet into defensiveness. Anger was pricking him like needles.

"Man," said Mikey, ignoring him. "Finally one of us gets lucky and it's with a _guy_. Pretty sure Dad wants grandkids. He's gonna be so disappointed."

The remark _hurt_ in a way that left Raphael breathless. "Mike," he said tensely, hands curled into fists on his thighs. "I need you to _shut up_ or I can't promise that I won't actually knock every single tooth outta yer mouth."

Mikey looked at him, a bit baffled. He settled down a little, though. "Why are you so tense? Aren't you _happy_ you're like, getting together or something?"

"What?" asked Raph, cagey. "We're not together! What the hell, Mike!"

"You're... not?" The surprise took the wind out of Mikey's sails a little, and he sat, dumbfounded, staring at his brother. "But... why not?" he asked, voice becoming pleading. "It's perfect! He's bi, you're gay, you're already spending every single minute of every day together; you're perfect for each other. Raph! Why wouldn't you be _together_?"

That was a lot of unpack and all Raph managed to say as panic rose in him was, "Shut up, Mike!"

"But—" Mikey started.

"Shut _up_ , Mike," said Raph again, getting up when the agitation became too much to sit still. "I don't, I—I don't have to fuckin' listen' to you, okay? Just fuckin' make lunch and shut up, I can't _handle_ you right now."

"Raph—" Mikey pleaded.

"No!" said Raph, and before he left, added, "And I'm not _gay_!"

\--

Even with Raph allegedly ruining the carrots, lunch was delicious. After a morning of tense training, the boys scarfed it down hungrily like always and conversation was dialed down to a minimum. It wasn't until after, when Raph was scrubbing away at the dishes, that Donatello peeked into the fridge, rummaged around in it for a while, and then turned his head, frowning disapprovingly.

"Did any of you eat my last yogurt?" he asked.

"Not me," said Mikey and Leo immediately.

Donnie turned his head to level Raphael with a suspicious squint.

"I don't fuckin' eat yogurt," grunted Raph without looking up from the dishes. "Shit's gross."

"Heathen," said Donatello unimpressed, closing the fridge. "Well, in any case, I am apparently out of yogurt."

Leo turned to Splinter. "Can we do a supply run today?" he asked. "Raph and I can—"

"Raphael is not to leave the lair," Splinter said patiently. "You will go with Donatello instead."

" _Me_?" asked Donatello, who was used to being ground support on missions, not joining their leader at the frontline, like a certain someone who liked to go head-first through the wall even if the door next to it was open. "But Dad—"

"I could go," Mikey suggested carefully, but Splinter shook his head.

"No," he said. "Leonardo and Donatello will go. It will be good practice for both of you. I will have no argument."

Everyone looked at each other, uncomfortable with the shift in routine, but nobody felt courageous or rebellious enough to argue. Raph stared at the sink, neck prickling with the certain knowledge that this, too, was his fault. Usually he and Leo went topside for supply runs, occasionally with Mikey because he was in charge of their food stuffs. Now Raphael was grounded.

To his surprise, behind him Michelangelo quietly piped up.

"Hey, Pops," he said, "I know you're mad at Raph, but I don't think—"

There was tense silence for a moment that Raph stood stock still, daring not to breathe. Neither did any of his remaining brothers, it seemed, all three of them frozen with surprise. 

"I, I don't think you should punish him," Mikey said softly. "He's... I don't think he's done anything wrong, y'know?"

Even without looking, Raph knew the patient, soul-searching look his father would have leveled at his youngest son, and he imagined Mikey's kind-of-scared, but resolved expression in return. 

"Would either of you want to make a correction to the claims that were made this morning?" asked Splinter finally.

Raph cringed so hard he almost broke the plate in his hands. "No," he said, quickly, loudly, terrified. "Nope. No. Drank beer. Bad. Not gonna do it again, learned my lesson. Moving on."

"I mean, yeah, that's _totally_ what he did, I just mean—" Mikey sputtered. "I mean, yeah that it was _dumb_ , and we're not old enough yet, but I think, y'know, _punishing_ him could send the wrong message at this point because he, uh—"

"Mike," growled Raph warningly. "Shut up or I'mma make ya."

"What is going _on_ with you two?" asked Leo suspiciously, uncharacteristically speaking out of turn. 

"Am I getting new yogurt or _what_?" asked Donatello, voice squeaking a little. "Mikey! Give me a list of things we need and then we better go before the sun comes up. Right? _Leo_."

" _Hai_ ," Leo agreed slowly, nodding once while he was still staring at Red and Orange. Raph finished doing the dishes and stubbornly pretended nothing was out of the ordinary.

Behind him, the rest of his family put together a list of things they needed, and after that, Leo and Donatello were quickly gone while they still had the cover of night giving them some protection. Dad shuffled to the couch to watch TV. Mikey was stuck with the knowledge he was supposed to watch his brother but also knowing said brother wanted anything but being watched right now. 

"Uhm," said Mikey carefully, wringing his hands. "Sorry. I just thought—"

"'s fine," grunted Raph, drying his hands with a towel after the last of the dishes was scrubbed clean and put away.

"Sorry," Mikey said sullenly again. "It's just... unfair, I guess."

"So you keep sayin'." Raph threw the towel carelessly onto the stove. Mikey wrinkled his snout but didn't comment.

"Well," he said slowly. "Since afternoon practice is cancelled, what do you wanna do?"

"Nothing that involves _you_ , loudmouth," said Raph, and he brushed past Mikey and deliberately caught his father's eye as he went past him through the living room, as if daring him to object. 

But Dad let him go, and Raphael had never been so thankful for the comfort of his bunk in his entire life. He climbed in, and shoveled his blankets over and around him until he was in a cave, and binge-watched shows on his phone.

Mikey came by once to bring him a warm mug of coffee. Raph extended a hand out of his blanket fort to accept it, but otherwise stayed hidden. 

Mikey came back a while later, bringing him a bowl of apple slices. Raphael accepted that, too, wordlessly into his fort. 

Raph heard Leo and Don return from their trip topside, and listened to his family's excited chatter as they unpacked their loot in the kitchen. Raph stayed hidden. Nobody came to bother him.

At some point, he must have dozed off and caught up on a little sleep he had missed the night prior, because when his phone rang, he startled awake hard, blinking heavily with his heart pounding in his ears. 

He pawed at his phone blearily to make the sound stop. Casey's dumb caller ID pic—him posing proudly with his hockey gear in his living room, messy background included—was all over his screen.

Raph had a second to consider just swiping him away, but then he accepted the call and pressed his phone against his ear canal. "Sup."

"Hey man," said Casey at the other end. "This a bad time?"

"Nah man," said Raph and rubbed his face against the lingering tiredness. He'd lost his bandana sometime prior but he couldn't find it in himself to care. "I got all the time in the world right now."

Casey made a surprised noise and Raph sighed. "Dad grounded me," he said.

"Aw, shit, what?" asked Casey, half-laughing and half sympathetic. "Why?"

Raph made a face at the phone that Casey couldn't see but at least felt good to do. "Underage drinking," he said.

Casey snorted a startled laugh. "What?"

"Yeah, I, I mean— _shit_." Raph was still under his blanket and stared against the comforting darkness of it. "I got home late so he wanted to know what was up and—well, _fuck_ , Casey, I ain't gonna tell him what _else_ happened, _Christ_."

Casey chuckled a little. "Probably a good idea." 

Raph felt awkwardness creep into the conversation like water dripping from a leaky faucet. 

"You good?" asked Casey. 

"I can survive a day on lockdown," said Raph, actively ignoring the implication of the question. "It's just that I'm bored, and Mikey got appointed babysitting duty. And he's _annoying_."

"I could come over for a bit," Casey suggested carefully. His tone sounded like he didn't say, _If you're okay with it_.

"Eh," said Raph, feeling like he was sitting in a house on fire. "It's fine. Better not show your face around here for a while. Splinter wants to chew you out too. He didn't let on but I think he was pretty mad."

"Wow," said Casey. "Yikes. I didn't think I would ever get to experience what it's like to disappoint a dad. It _sucks_!"

"I know, right," said Raph, and Casey groaned. And then they both laughed.

"Aw man, fuck," Casey said, chuckling a little still. "I'm sorry, man."

"'s all good," Raph said, twiddling with a loose thread on his pants. "Not your fault."

There was another moment of uncertain silence. 

"So, uhm, we're cool?" asked Casey with a clearing of the throat.

Raph continued to ignore what he knew Casey meant. "You didn't exactly force those beers down my throat, Casey."

" _Raph_ ," said Casey, voice tight in a way that Raph didn't recognize. It was enough to shut him up for a moment.

"That's not what I mean," Casey continued. "I mean... Fuck me. Uhm... Look—if shit's cool with you, it's cool. Right? I just wanted to... check in, I guess, to see if you'd changed your mind or something..."

"Casey, it already fuckin' happened," muttered Raph dismissively, uncomfortable to a degree that he was ready to crawl out of his shell any second now. "So whatever, aight?"

"Nothing 'whatever', you could still be freaking out," insisted Casey. "Don't be an ass, I'm being nice here!"

"It's _fine_ ," said Raph, though freaking out was exclusively what he had been doing for, oh, how long now? "If it's cool with you, it's cool with me."

"This ain't about _me_ , Raph," said Casey. "If I somehow took advantage of you, man—"

"Ugh," groaned Raph, his quota for emotions-talk exhausted.

"I'm serious!" Casey said. "It all happened kinda fast, so—"

"It's fine!" said Raph impatiently. "It was fun, so cram your fuckin' worries already!" 

There was another beat of silence.

Finally, Casey said, "Fun?"

Raph could _hear_ his grin. He could see it in his mind's eye, too.

Raph huffed a noisy breath. "Ya heard what I said, jackass," he said defensively, because he wasn't going to say _yes_. 

... and didn't want to say _no_.

"Okay," said Casey smoothly, and Raph grimaced at his phone again because Casey trying to act smooth was about as appealing as dead possum floating in the sewers.

(Gross, but also kind of fascinating.)

"If ya try to come on ta me I'll rip your dick off next time," he snarled, and Casey, the absolute asshole, laughed.

"Next time?" he asked smugly.

The implication sank in and Raph paled a little. "Fuck _off_ Jones, you know what I _mean_!" he snapped.

Casey just laughed but he let it rest. "Alright man," he said fondly. "Just wanted to check in with you and see if we're cool."

"Yes, god," groaned Raph. "I might change my fuckin' mind if you go all _Mikey_ on me though."

"I would never," said Casey cheerfully. "Okay, I'm gonna go to bed, but you call me if something happens, right?"

"Yeah man, 'course."

"Alright bro. Say hi to the fam. Love you. Later."

"Yeah," said Raph, freezing, and sitting there with his phone to his ear even after Casey had hung up.

\--

In the end, being grounded wasn't even that different from any other day, with the expectation that Raph was also forbidden from working out, which admittedly made him a little antsy. But Raph told himself it didn't, set his jaw, and shouldered on. 

Between playing Tricky Towers with Mikey for an hour or two, and then cleaning the dojo with Leo, the day passed like any other. And even though Raph was always half-prepared to be ambushed by his nosy brothers, even though Leo stared at him suspiciously sometimes, he was left alone.

Until that evening. 

Raph was in the living room by himself while Mikey prepared dinner. Orange had pointedly snagged Leo to help him chop veggies, and Donnie was sitting with them for company. 

Splinter opened the shoji to his room, and the second Raphael heard the soft footfall of his paws and the gliding of his tail over the concrete floor, he thought, _Nope_ , vaulted himself over the backrest of the couch and fled to his bunk.

Dad was not deterred, and Raphael had nowhere else to go. His only solace was that Dad didn't reach the top bunk. (Had he always been so small? Raphael remembered, vaguely, a time where he would look up at his father, and reach his hands up, up, up at him to be carried on his hip. When had that been? How long had it been?)

"My son," Splinter began, and Raphael turned towards the wall.

"Not interested," he said, checking his phone. Unhelpfully, there was nothing new at all to look at, so he just stared at his home screen dumbly, chewing on his cheek.

"Raphael," said Splinter, a little more pressingly. Damn the full name emphasis! Raphael held his phone so hard he expected it to crack and steeled his resolve.

A soft rocking of the bed told him Dad had simply resigned himself to sitting down on Michelangelo's mattress. 

He didn't say anything for a while, and that was even worse than the long, disappointed monologue Raph had been bracing himself for.

The tense silence chipped away at Raph's already faltering resolution to not have this talk, and the pressure against an already leaky dam became too much.

"I _know_ I fucked up," he snapped, petulantly. "I apologized, I'm grounded; what more do you _want_?"

Splinter sighed like the world weighted on his shoulders. "I want to make sure you're alright, my son," he said. 

Raph tensed because he really, really wasn't, but he wasn't about to say so. He started to chew on the nail of a thumb just to expel some anxiety. "Look, Casey and me, we just—" he began, immediately noticing how his throat got thick and tight with the lingering uncertainty of what had really happened, the lie he'd told, all faced with Dad's damn sincerity. 

He snapped his beak shut and pressed his hands into his armpits, chewing on nothing. "'s fine," he said finally, which was a blatant lie. And Raph didn't enjoy lying to his family, but why wouldn't they just leave him alone to deal with whatever was happening? Why were they always up in his business? What else could he do, but lie? He didn't want them to know. Not while he didn't know what was happening in the first place, and what it all meant. Was bad enough that _Mikey_ knew and that he had to deal with _him_.

Dad was silent. Raph managed the unspoken test of willpower for just a moment longer. He rubbed his face and then sat up, leaning over the side railing of his bunk to look down. His father looked up at him in return, brows furrowed and his brown eyes soft and sad.

"Don't _worry_ ," Raphael pleaded, hands clenched around the steel railing as he closed his eyes because he could not look at his father looking so sad. "Please just, don't, fucking—I don't know, but don't worry, okay? I know you're thinking I'm, I'm, I'm becoming _delinquent_ or some shit. And I ain't! I mean, like—fuck. I _know_ I come home late and I _know_ I backtalk and—okay, _fine_ , I'm not exactly the shining example of a perfect son like Leo and not as cute as Mikey and not as chill as Donnie—and just for the record I think he's the most likely to actually go mad, like _crazy scientist_ mad!—I lost my fuckin' train of thought... Fuck, uhm. Look. I just, Dad, _look_ , please don't worry, okay?"

There wasn't an immediate answer, and Raph wasn't even sure if that word barf had made any sense to him at all. He cautiously peeked one eye open. Dad was still looking at him, and Raph wasn't super sure but he thought he looked a little appeased.

"If you say so," Splinter said after a moment. He sighed again, and gripped his cane to level himself upright again. "And also," he said as he stood, tugging Raph's dangling mask tails and Raph had to grab the mask so Dad didn't pull it off. "That's five quarters for the swear jar."

"Aw, what, seriously?" he asked, but he laughed, and Dad smiled a little. 

From the kitchen, Mikey yelled that dinner was ready. Splinter waited for his son to climb down from his bunk, and set a soft paw on his shell as they walked back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leo stole Donnie's last yogurt for a face mask. I refuse to believe otherwise.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I uhh. Went through some shit, this is why this is so late. I _hope_ I'm over it and the next update will be sooner. Sorry for the delay.

Raph woke up when Mikey left the bed the next morning. He peeked with one eye at the clock on his phone and thought another five minutes were acceptable, turned around and pushed his snout back into his pillow.

Mikey and Leo were talking in the kitchen in hushed voices. He could hear Leo go into Dad's to bring him tea, and then tiptoe back to the kitchen. It started to smell like eggs and bacon, and Raph thought that maybe breakfast wasn't a bad idea after all.

It was t+2 since _The Incident_ and Raph wasn't entirely sure how he felt. The stress and panic from first realizing what had happened had ebbed away some, especially since he'd talked with Casey and everything seemed... _fine_. Maybe the world wouldn't come crashing down on him after all. 

Just another normal morning. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.

Soft footsteps and the smell of coffee coming closer alerted him to an approaching brother and Raphael rose with a grunt, subjecting himself to wakefulness.

To his surprise, it was Leo next to the bunk with a mug in his hand, not Mikey.

"Good morning," he said, offering the mug up to Raphael. He was still in the oversized t-shirt he slept in. It was bunched up over the top lip of his shell and left his thighs bare. It probably meant _something_ that he'd come to Raph before getting washed up and dressed, but Raph wasn't awake enough to guess what that was.

"Mornin'," answered Raph, sitting up and accepting the mug from Leo's hands. Mikey's coffee was always watery, but it was better than nothing. 

Leo hummed in soft assent. There was a pregnant pause, then he added, "I talked to Dad. He says you're still grounded."

Raph rolled his eyes a little. "I ain't surprised," he said.

Leo looked like there was something he wanted to say, but then he just smiled a little. "Mike is making eggs and bacon," he said, like the tasty smell didn't cover every corner of the lair already. "I think he's trying to make you feel better."

"'m fine," muttered Raph into the mug.

"Well, to make _Mike_ feel better, you better let him pamper you. I think he's making you an extra serving of bacon and you'd be an idiot not to be all over that." Leo half-turned. "See you in five?"

"Yeah," said Raph, and watched Leo go, and drank his coffee in his bunk while he checked his phone for a bit. 

Their diurnal friends usually left them a couple of lines to wake up to, and it wasn't a bad way to start the day to have April tell them she passed her exams. Raph threw some congratulations into the group chat, and then thumbed out of it to where Casey's thread had an unread message. 

Casey  
> Hmu when ur up

Raph  
> am up

Casey  
> Eyo  
> Good morning  
> How are we feeling?

Raph  
> ask me again after i've had proper coffee, mikey can't make coffee for shit

Casey  
> Oh dude  
> I'm super down for some frappucchino or sth after work  
> Frapuchino  
> Frappuchino  
> What the fuck  
> Frapucchino  
> It keeps tellin me I'm spelling it wrong but not telling me what's right??

Raph  
> it's fucking frappuccino you moron  
> and would  
> but can't  
> still grounded

Casey  
> Ohhh what?  
> Dang  
> I'm sorry man

Raph  
> s fine  
> not your fault.  
> hey ttyl gotta go get breakfast or i'll break mikey's heart

Casey  
> You're more likely to break someone's bones when you don't eat breakfast  
> Cuz you get grumpy

Raph  
> fuck off!  
> i'm not grumpy

Casey  
> Spoken like a true grump

Raph  
> shut up nerd

Casey  
> Not because you told me to but because the boss is looking at me  
> Ttyl 

Raph watched as Casey's little green online status dot switched to gray. He emptied the rest of his coffee and then jumped down from the bunk. 

From the kitchen, Mikey hollered, "Raph! Breakfast!"

"I'm comin’, I'm comin’, let me put on pants first, Jesus Christ!" Raph roared back. Maybe Leo was okay with running around without pants but Raph _really_ wasn't.

"Your bacon doesn't care if you're wearing pants, swing your tail over here!" Mikey said. "I'll count to ten and if you're not here then, I'll give your bacon to Leo!"

"I really don't—" said Leo, and Mikey, louder, started counting, "Ten—nine—!"

"Jesus _fucking_ Christ," growled Raph, with one leg halfway in his sweatpants and hobbling in the direction of the kitchen. "Holdin' bacon hostage is against the Geneva convention, Mike!"

"I'm pretty sure the poor pig it's coming from wasn't exactly treated like sunshine and roses either, _Raph_ ," said Mikey, standing in the kitchenette with his apron on, a spatula in one hand propped against his hip. 

"I'm honestly baffled you manage to make an extra serving of bacon for Raph because you feel bad for him and then use that as ammunition," Leo said, sitting by the table with tea and toast. 

" _Cute_ doesn't mean _dumb_ ," said Mikey. "And bacon's better hot." He shoveled a big serving of scrambled eggs and bacon on a plate as Raph sat down and then handed it to him with a kiss to Raph's flat head. "But Raph is my favorite brother currently."

Raph grunted and shooed him away, but without his mask, there was nothing to hide how dark his face got upon the affection. Leo chuckled to himself but didn't comment, only holding out his plate to be filled with his (much smaller) portion of eggs and bacon.

"Can you go one morning without yelling?" asked Donnie, coming around the corner of his own alcove, glasses off and yawning. 

"Can you go one night without going to bed at _noon_?" asked Leo. "No wonder you're always tired. I told you to go to sleep!"

"Yes, Mamanardo," said Donnie. "And I told _you_ , I was working."

"You're _always_ working!" said Leonardo, scooting over with his chair a little to make room. "That's hardly an argument in favor of leaving you alone."

"You _should_ sleep earlier," said Raph, mouth full of food. "'s not healthy."

"Oh, is Mr _Bad Habits_ giving _me_ life advice now?" asked Donnie, filling a bowl with milk and then putting cereal in after just to see the appalled expression on his brothers' faces. 

"Oh, I can't look, it's a nightmare!" squeaked Mikey, entirely delighted by his brother's raw chaotic energy, sitting down cross-legged next to Leo. 

"Oh, ugh," said Raph, snout rumpled. "That's just unnatural."

"Said the mutant turtle," snickered Donnie, stirring his cereal. "Instead of lecturing me, can you make proper coffee?" 

"What's wrong with _my_ coffee?" asked Mikey, lower lip quivering. 

"It's watery," said Raph, and Donnie said, "I want my coffee to have the same kinetic energy as Raph's right hook," and Leo said, "Your coffee is fine, Mikey, they're just perverse."

And they all laughed. 

\-- 

During breakfast, Dad confirmed what Leo had said; Raph was still grounded. Raph accepted it with a wordless nod while Mikey looked uncomfortable on his behalf. Thankfully though, he didn't try to intervene like yesterday. 

Afterwards, they shuffled into the dojo, put on their training gear, and Raph was able to put his brain on mute for a few blissful hours of physical exertion. The four of them did their warm-ups, their agility training, their strength training, their kata, and finally, before lunch, half an hour of meditation. 

Raph sat, and breathed, palms open on his knees where he sat in the lotus position, between Leo and Donnie, and while he didn't know how to _not_ think shit during meditation, he felt that maybe, just a little bit, he managed to look at his thoughts and let them go.

Splinter released them, and they ran off to the showers, exhausted and chattering. Leo emptied a bucket of water over Raphael while he was still dressed to get back at him for a mean punch during sparring. Raph tackled Leonardo and they both ended up stumbling into the pool, making a huge splash that Mikey and Donnie tried to avoid, yelling. 

Seeing really no reason why two of them should remain dry when the other two were soaked through, Raph and Leo started a wild hunt to grab their remaining brothers and bodily shove them into the pool. Donnie, who made the mistake of fleeing into a corner, went first, locked into Raphael's arms with no means of escape. Mikey remained elusive for some time, jumping and flipping and climbing while screeching at the top of his lungs. Eventually though, Leo managed to grab his ankle, and Raphael wrangled the much smaller Michelangelo into submission and Mikey screamed and laughed as he was carried to the pool and dunked like the rest of them.

Dad laughed a little at them, fondly exasperated, as they sat in towels in the living room after, their clothes drying on the rack in the bathroom. 

"I was under the impression the lot of you were too old to go streaking through the living room," he said, leaning on his cane. "But apparently some things don't change."

"Streaking?" said Leo loftily. "I did no such thing."

"Well," said Splinter, brushing a paw over his whiskers, "this is true. When your diaper was full, your little face scrunched up unhappily, and you started crying and wouldn't stop until you were cleaned."

Leo scowled at his father for this unnecessary detail while three brothers laughed at him. 

"Michelangelo and Raphael, however," said Dad over them, "hated their diapers to begin with. Orange would run away every time I tried to change him, and Red actually found out how to take them off by himself. It was a _nightmare_."

"For a diaper-free environment!" Mikey hooted, throwing his fists up. "I deserve to pee myself in freedom!"

Raph smacked him and looked at Dad. "I don't remember that," he said. 

"You were all very little," Splinter allowed gently. "But you were the first of your brothers to be potty trained."

Raph wasn't sure if this was something to be proud of, but he shot his brothers a haughty look anyway. 

Leo especially seemed to take the news poorly, being the neatest of them. " _Raph_?" he said, mouth flat and incredulous. "Yeah right."

"Hey," said Raph, swatting at him. Leo evaded smoothly by leaning out of his range. 

Splinter inclined his head a little, reminiscing. "He's always been the biggest of you four," he mused. "I think you hated the diapers because of your tail. So much so that you wanted to learn how to avoid them."

While three brothers had a too visceral understanding of what having a tail _and_ a diaper on would mean and grimaced unhappily, Mikey leaned over to Raph.

"He's saying your tail is the longest," he stage-whispered, and then whooped in delight as he jumped away from Raph's grab. 

"Mikey, I swear to fuckin' Christ—" Raph roared, half-off the couch to give chase. 

"Why are we talking about this!" asked Leo unhappily. "I'm gonna go get dressed." He swatted Raph on the biceps as he pushed past him to signal him to let it rest, and Raph bared his teeth at him, peeved. 

"Well," said Splinter jovially, "technically, that would still be me. If we wanted to make it a contest."

"Oh my god, Dad!" yelled four turtles in terror.

\--

In the afternoon, Donnie peeked his head out of his lab. "Raph?" he called, even as he put his glasses on to see who actually was in earshot. "There you are," he said. "Can you come help me with something?"

"Oh, absolutely," sighed Raph, already detaching himself from the couch he had been basically living on since lunch. "Anything."

Donnie held the door open for him, and then closed it behind him when Raph had entered the lab. Raph had a moment to wonder about the secrecy, but Don already spread his fingers out pleadingly.

"Now, don't tell the others," he said, softly even for him. "But—I'm working on a little something and I need your opinion."

"Uh," said Raph. "Sure."

Donnie squinted at him suspiciously and Raph rolled his eyes a little and put one hand up and the other over his pectoral scutes. 

"Pizza Supreme in the sky," he said. "Not a word."

"Mikey _can't_ know," insisted Donnie. "He's going to tell Leo, and Leo is going to tell Dad."

Raph dropped his hands and crossed them in front of him. "Dee, seriously, I do not need a lecture about keepin' shit from my family, alright? Out with it."

"I suppose you don't," Dee agreed, and turned away. He gestured for Raph to follow, who frowned but did.

For all his neuroses and cleanliness, Donatello's lab was always in disorder. Every surface was cluttered with papers like blueprints, data, schematics, math—and tools some of which Raph wasn't even sure what they were. Dad was very strict about them keeping the lair clean and neat, with different rates of success in each son, but nobody dared to touch Donnie's stuff. Dee said it helped him work when he didn't have to put things away but could leave them as they were to be picked up later; after he ate or jotted down another idea or got sidetracked by any other thing. 

If they were other people, 'normal' people, the special treatment Donnie always got (not to mention the space his lab actually took up, compared to the overall size of their home) might have annoyed his brothers, but Donnie _was_ special. And they all remembered a time when they were younger, and Don was still learning, and they didn't have electricity and all the comforts it brought. Donnie being special was essentially their lifeline.

Point was, nobody touched Donnie's stuff. Nobody went into the lab unsupervised. Nobody asked twice about anything Donnie did. 

And that was probably the only reason that Raph had apparently never paid any mind to the giant, vaguely rectangular shape under a tarp at the far end of the lab, back by the steel double doors that they hadn't used since moving the sofas in a couple of years ago. 

"Uh," said Raph, stopping where he was. Donnie kept walking up to the tarp and grabbed it by the hem. He shot Raph a sidelong glance and then pulled it off.

Beneath was a truck, but not just any truck. It looked like one of the ugly UPS things Raph saw topside sometimes, but it was blank, and just by looking at it, Raph could tell it was actually armored. The windows were tinted, too. Donnie had already jacked it up, all tires missing and neatly stacked in a far corner. The hood was open, the engine visible and apparently missing some parts. 

The only thing, the fucking only thing Raph thought to ask was, "How the fuck did you get that in here?"

"I drove it, naturally," said Donnie, sounding a little offended.

"You can _drive_?" asked Raph.

"What, like it's hard?" said Donnie, a little petulant. 

Raph's mind was starting to catch up. "Donnie," he said, incredulous. "Did you _steal_ this?"

"I am not liable to relinquish that sort of information," said Donnie smoothly, adjusting his glasses. "Either way I made sure nobody will miss it."

"Are you... fuckin' insane?" asked Raph with a startled chuckle, though he was more impressed than worried. "No, actually, this pretty much proves it; you _are_ batshit crazy."

Donnie smiled a little. There was a reason he'd come to Raph with this, and not any of his other brothers. 

Raph was already rounding the car, peeking into the driver's side and the engine, opening the doors at the back to check the inside. Donnie let him, watching complacently. The truck wobbled under Raph's impressive weight as he climbed in.

"I was hoping you would be willing to help me work on the engine," Donnie said conversationally. "Of course I could do it by myself, but if you do the mechanical work I can get to the electrical parts faster. This thing can't even play FLACs and I'm not going to present it to Mikey before I know the subwoofer triggers our tremor sense."

"I don't think this was created with the driver's multimedia entertainment in mind," said Raph, squeezing himself into the driver's seat. He checked the glove compartment and behind the blinds. Donnie had robbed the car of any and all information on where it had come from. It didn't even have a brand on the steering wheel. "Is this like, military, or like a money transfer truck or somethin'?" asked Raph.

Donnie smiled and shrugged. The fact that he wasn't bragging was telling enough though.

"Dad is gonna have your fucking tail for this," Raph told him. 

Donnie pulled up one shoulder lazily, not looking particularly worried at all. "Driving around in an armored car with tinted windows is much more secure for us than parkouring over rooftops," he said. "Think of the amount of food and necessities we could transport. We wouldn't have to ask Casey or April for help all the time. We'd be more independent. I'm sure Leo will agree with me eventually."

"I'm pretty sure Leo will want to _drive_ ," Raph muttered.

"I'm not sure yet if I will relinquish that right," Donnie said mildly. "But we will see, maybe I'll build in some more gadgets or something and someone will have to handle that, so..." 

Raph opened the driver's door and ducked out of the truck. He closed the door again, gently, without making a sound. "How exactly did you manage to sneak this in without anyone noticing?" he asked.

"Oh, like you care when I make some noise." Donnie waved him off. "I'll just say something about an unfortunate reaction to quantum inversion redimensioning, yada yada, and you roll your eyes and let me be. I'm pretty sure if I started doing human experiments in here you wouldn't notice."

"Hmm, note to self, don't underestimate the geek," Raph said with something like reluctant admiration. 

Donnie huffed a small little laugh. “No,” he said, “you really oughtn’t. Though I will say, if people stop underestimating me, I might lose my best asset.”

“Yeah, see, that’s _you_ underestimating _yourself_ ,” Raph pointed out, dryly.

“Oh, _touché_ my good sir,” said Donnie. “Too bad nobody was around to see you owning me.”

They laughed, and Raph held out his fist. Donnie bumped his own against it. Raph did a little explode-y noise that made Don laugh again because he loved things exploding.

"Okay, let's see about that engine,” Raph said then. “Where's your toolbox?"

"Take your pick from one of these," said Don happily, pointing at a heap of salvaged tools in a corner as he hopped into the car to take out half of the dashboard. 

They worked in companionable silence. As far as meditative trances went, this was a lot better than sitting still in the dojo doing _nothing_. Donnie seemed to agree, and they each just did their thing without having to talk.

After a while, Raph ran into a problem with the cylinders, and chewed on his cheek for a bit as he wondered what to do about that. Thinking he best let Don have a look at it, he re-emerged from the engine with his fingers black with oil. 

"Y'know," he said, coming around the hood to lean against the car and peeking inside, where Donnie was busy sitting in the remains of what had once been a properly assembled dashboard and was now an electronic battlefield. "You should probably let Casey have a look at this when he comes over. He's the mechanic."

"Oh, like he would be able to keep his mouth shut," Donnie said without looking up from his work. "And I suspect he's taught you everything he knows, anyway. I've seen the work you've done on your bike, Raphie, you're pretty much a mechanic yourself at this point, just with no diploma on your wall."

"Aw, uhm," said Raph sheepishly. "I didn't mean to go fishing for compliments."

"No compliments, just stating facts, Raph," said Donnie smoothly. Then he did look up. "How _are_ things with Casey, anyway?"

Raph hesitated, wiping his hands clean on a rag. "Why, uh,” he said, “why’d anything be weird?”

“Weird?” echoed Donnie, one eyebrow slowly rising, visible even under the mask he was wearing. “Are they?”

“Nothing’s weird!” said Raph quickly.

“Uh- _huh_ ,” said Donnie, clearly believing none of it. "No new developments then? I thought the whole _being grounded_ thing was maybe, well..." He waved a hand vaguely and trailed off.

"Was...?" asked Raph tensely. “What’re ya gettin’ at?”

"An indicator for progress, if you will," Donnie said. He went back to his electronics. "Don't get all evasive. If you don't wanna talk about it, that's fine. I don't need to know."

Raph grunted dismissively and turned back to the engine. 

Donatello managed to keep his mouth shut for a solid thirty seconds or so. "I am, however," he said from the inside of the truck, "morally obliged to inform you that alcohol consumption undermines consent. So. Now you know. We don't have to talk about it any more."

Raphael stared at the hole under the truck's hood where he had taken out the battery. It was a fucking trick and he knew it, but his resolve lasted only a few seconds. "What's that supposed ta mean?" he asked.

"If _something_ had, quote unquote, _happened_ and you were _intoxicated_ ," Donatello said, voice level and impassive like it only was when he put a lot of thought into what he was saying, "that might pose a problem."

“What… might have happened?” asked Raph lamely.

“Oh, I couldn’t begin to guess,” said Donnie. “And I _really_ don’t want to know. So _please_ don’t tell me.”

Raph gestured vaguely, throwing his hands out. “But?” he demanded.

Donnie looked up just barely over the hood of the truck. "Alcohol is a depressant, Raph," he said flatly. "It causes euphoria and improves sociability. It also reduces anxiety, and _don't_ try to tell me that you don't have an anxiety problem because _I_ have an anxiety problem and I can see the symptoms from a mile away.

“People also consider recreational drug use to be 'cool,' which is _dumb_ beyond measure, but I think a goal in your desired image of yourself." Donnie shrugged. 

Raph opened his beak to say something, but that was a lot to unpack and he didn’t even know where to _start_ and just closed his mouth again. He stared at Donnie, who lowered his gaze back to his work uncomfortably.

Raph frowned at him while Donnie pretended he wasn’t noticing.

“Donnie,” said Raph warningly. “What the fuck are you sayin’?”

“Nothing!” squawked Donnie. “Sorry I brought it up. It’s not my place.”

“Damn right it ain’t,” said Raph, grabbing the truck by the door frame and leaning onto the inside toward Donnie. “Tell me again what the fuck we’re talking about?”

Donnie fidgeted where he was clearly trying to concentrate on his work more for the distraction it brought than anything else. He ended up getting a small electric shock from an exposed wire, flinched back and shook his hand out. Raph was still staring him down.

Donatello grimaced. "Like I said, this is an _ethical_ reminder and nothing else." He stuck his finger in his mouth to nurse the small burn. "You've been tense. You often are, so that's not even what ticked me off, but you not putting up a huge fight over Dad grounding you makes me believe you don't want any more attention drawn to yourself, which means something happened that is not related to underage alcohol consumption. I don't want to know what it was, but for my own mental sake, I wanted to remind you that _if_ you made a decision while drunk, which maybe you've come to regret, you were intoxicated and your judgement impaired.

"I don't like jumping to conclusions, but there's a few _strong_ arguments to be made if you wanted to formulate a hypothesis of something having happened when you come home in the middle of the night from a visit at Casey's—who, if you care to remember for a moment, you admitted having complicated feelings for—and then get into an argument with Mikey, bail for the remainder of the night, show up late for breakfast and get grounded for underage drinking, that you admitted to. So excuse me for asking if _maybe_ the two of you got drunk together and, I don't know, had sex."

Raph let go of the truck to run his hands over his face and rub vigorously. He walked a quick circle when the tension he felt needed an outlet. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised—he’d talked to Donnie about Casey, had asked him all the damn stupid questions he didn’t have an answer for, of _course_ it would come back to bite him in the tail. That was what he got for opening up about this whole goddamn thing.

Raph walked another circle; shoulders hunched and hands clenching and unclenching on nothing. He desperately wanted a punching bag. He didn’t have one, so he stopped walking and breathed and forcibly lowered his shoulders. 

"What's it to you?" he asked finally without even looking at his brother. "You said yourself you don't care for shit like that."

"Oh, don't you dare, Raphael," said Donnie, expression flat. "Don't you _dare_. When I told you about my… my _limitations_ it was to make you understand why I might not be the best person to ask for advice in these things, but don't— _don't_ take that as an admission of a lack of compassion. What is this—I'm basically incapable of caring? Ha!" He threw his hands out a little, looking at the ceiling. "Delicious irony! Donatello is a soft-shell although he's basically an emotionless machine. Purple is an indigo child, L-O-L."

"What? No! I ain't sayin' that," said Raph tensely. "Don't fuckin' put words in my mouth."

"Well if you would say something besides _insulting_ us, or _bailing_ on us, maybe that would _help_ , have you ever considered that?" said Donnie. 

He took a look at the open and gutted dashboard, and seemingly thought the fun of working on it spoiled. He clambered out of the passenger door and closed it with utmost care and without making a sound, which Raph _hated_ because he really thought Donnie ought to be slamming doors for once. But of course he didn't. 

"I don't owe you anything," he said. "Any of you."

"No I agree!" said Donnie, coming around the hood to Raph's side. "And I’m serious, I don't want to _know_ , because—” Donnie waved his hands, looking flustered. “No thanks. What I _want_ to know is if you need _help_. Or—gosh, I don't know..." He gestured wildly again. "—a factual breakdown on why you're _normal_ in what you're going through. Geez, Raph, you know I'm bad at this, I don't know how to ask you about these things, either, I just want to make sure you're okay and not freaking out and feeling all alone because that's a thing you _do_ , you know. You run away from us and Dad tells us you need time and space and I want to give it to you but I really _hate_ —which, surprise!, is an emotion—when I can't _help_ you, Raph. I'm no therapist and I would make for a terrible one anyway and you're probably right: I suck at emotions but I can't help but try because _Donatello fixes things_ is basically my job description! And I know you won't talk to Mikey or Leo! So what else can I do but try? _Gosh_ —"

"Dee," said Raph, because Donatello didn't seem like he was going to finish his rant anytime soon, now that the flood gates were open. "Stop. Chill. Fuckin' breathe, dude."

"Right, yes! Of course." Donnie flapped his hands a few times, then pushed his glasses up to rest on his head and rubbed his eyes. He breathed into the space of his palms for a moment. Raph watched him closely. 

"You want a hug?" he asked. He would have just pulled him in, but with Donnie, it was courteous to ask. 

"Yes, actually," said Donnie tersely. "A big one, please."

"Comin' right up," said Raph, and pulled Don into his arms and _squeezed_ until their plastrons scraped with an ugly noise. Donnie gasped in surprise, and then laughed as Raph leaned back as far as he could, heaving Donnie off the ground. 

"Ow, okay, okay, I'm okay, you can stop—" he chuckled, kicking his legs, and Raph eased up on the pressure and set him back on his feet. Donnie adjusted his glasses, looking flustered. 

"How about we start the entire conversation over?" he asked sheepishly. "I feel like that went _subpar_ even for our standards."

"Yeah," said Raph. "Sounds good." He threw a lazy finger out to point at the door. "D'you want me to come in again, or—" 

Donnie snorted and shoved at him. "No, big dummy," he said, and then paused. "Actually," he corrected himself, "I think I would like a coffee, just to relax a little."

Raph nodded. "That I can do. Hang tight, I'll be just a minute," he said. Donnie was about the only person he knew who drank coffee to _calm down_ , but if it worked, Raph was more than happy to oblige. "Better cover that back up," he said before he turned, pointing at the truck. 

"Oh! Yes, of course," said Donnie, looking around for the tarp as Raph left for the kitchen. 

\--

Nobody was around the kitchenette or the living room, but Raph didn't go looking for his family and was more than happy to have a few minutes of silence to himself as he went through the Holy Ritual of Making Coffee For Donnie. 

Raph took a moment of mental inventory and noticed he felt reasonably OK. It was so much easier to focus his attention toward a distressed brother than his own problems—even if said brother was mainly distressed because of his own actions. Well. If Raph was used to something, it was being a cause of concern for his family. He could handle that much.

When Raph returned to the lab with two mugs, Donnie was back at the PC. "Here you go," said Raph, holding out one mug for Don to take. His brother swiveled around in his chair and accepted the drink with a sigh.

"Thanks, Raphie," he said softly. He drew his feet up into his desk chair and kind of curled around the little warm mug of comfort. "Uhm. I think I need to apologize. I'm sorry for what I said. That was... I unloaded a lot on you and not all of it was for your ears. Or your fault, for that matter! I'm... surprisingly emotionally dysregulated right now, and it just... came out."

"It's fine," said Raph, sipping his own coffee slowly. Lack of sitting space in the lab had him lean against the workbench. "You bottle shit up. 's not healthy."

Donnie snorted softly and hid a smile behind the mug. "Oh, look who's talking."

"Exactly," said Raph, unaffected. "Trust my judgement on all things _Bottling Up_. I’m a fuckin’ expert."

Donnie chuckled. "Yes, re: that," he said. "The information I _wanted_ to convey is that—I want to help, if I can. If you want me to. Uhm. You don't have to tell me anything—honestly I don't know what level of detail I'm comfortable with, uhm. But. Yes. Don't... 'bottle shit up.'"

Raph shuffled his feet against the concrete floor and stared at his coffee. He hesitated for a moment, sorted through his thoughts, then sighed and shrugged exaggeratedly. "Look, I... don't really wanna talk about it."

Donnie clearly took that to mean something that it didn't. "Raph," he said carefully. "What I said was true... About alcohol, I mean. It lowers inhibitions... It can make choices look appealing that you regret later on. If your judgment was impaired—"

Raph stared at Donnie, at how the soft spot between his brow ridges was bunched up with worry. 

"It was nothing like that," he said. 

Donnie had obviously expected some objection, because he said earnestly, "Raph, if you were drunk, consent becomes an issue. I don’t want to insinuate anything, but—"

"No, no. I mean, like… _fuck_ me, uhm, the drinking was _after_ ," Raph blurted because yikes, Donnie had this all wrong. "I was sober for the... I was _sober_. Jesus Christ."

“Oh.” Donnie blinked. “Oh, well. Okay then. I… Okay!”

Apparently completely at a loss for words suddenly, Donnie stared at Raph and Raph, flustered and without thinking, blurted, "I mean, it... wasn't planned or anything, it was a kind of... heat of the moment thing, I guess. It’s not like we—"

“I don’t want to know!” squeaked Donnie. “Please spare me the details.”

“Right!” said Raph quickly.

Donnie rubbed his forehead and took a slow sip of coffee. Raph did the same, blinking heavily against the heat of embarrassment in his face.

“Well!” said Donnie finally, putting his mug down. “That was much ado about nothing. Let’s just pretend this entire conversation didn't happen.”

“Agreed,” said Raph.

Donnie cleared his throat. “Word of advice though? If you don't want _Leo_ to start bugging you, you better work on your poker face. He knows something is up, he's just giving you space because Dad told him to."

"I hate this fucking family," Raph muttered glumly. "Mikey already basically _blackmailed_ me into talking to him. What is it with having no fucking personal space, ever?"

“Oh, that explains the way he’s been acting. I was wondering if I was going crazy.” Donnie chuckled to himself. "It's not much," he said then to Raph, pointing at his workshop, "but you're free to come in here and help me work on this baby. If I tell Mikey to stay out, he usually listens."

"Why's he listen to you but not me?" lamented Raph. "Tell me your fuckin' secret, Don-sensei."

Donnie laughed airily, flustered. "I think it's not respect so much as him being super awkward about my autism," he said. "Mikey expresses his love in a way I don't compute very well, so he's scared he'll do something wrong. And Leo is Leo. You at least are as physical as Mikey is, so it's really no wonder he clings to you. Literally, oftentimes."

Raph thought about that for a moment, but the damn genius was probably right. Donnie was reserved with physical affection. Leo was gentle and kind, but overly intellectual because he thought feelings were not very _bushido_. Though Michelangelo could get on Raph's nerves, he supposed he was the most likely to grant their little brother the affection he craved. 

Raph rubbed his face, sighing. "I guess that makes sense," he said. "I always thought he's just like, a ball and chain on my leg on purpose because I'm easiest to get a rise out of."

"Oh, I mean he can be a pest on purpose, no doubt," Donnie said cheerfully. "I'm glad he outgrew the prank phase he had when he was fourteen."

"Don't remind me of us being fourteen," said Raph glumly.

Donnie was about to say something to that, but Mikey used that moment to pop his head into the lab. "There you are," he said. "Hey Dee, can I borrow Big and Grumpy for a sec?"

"Sure, we were just talking," said Donnie, swiveling around in his chair. "I wanted to get some more work done anyway."

"'s nobody gonna ask _me_?" asked Raph, already resigning himself to do whatever Mikey wanted with him.

"No," said Mikey, and grabbed his hand to pull him out of the lab.

"Close the door please," Donnie called after them, and Raph thought back to the truck under the tarp in the corner, and thought that it was nice to have a secret that wasn't about _him_ for a change. 

\--

"You're gonna help me with dinner," said Mikey as he dragged Raph away. "I thought it'd be great to make pizza."

"Sure," said Raph, who was glad for a distraction what the fuck ever had just happened. 

Mikey had apparently expected more objections because he gave Raph a look. "Are you that bored?" 

Raph rolled his eyes. "I swear if Leo asks me if I want to meditate with him I'd say yes, just for the change in scenery."

"That is pretty bored," Mikey said. "Well! Help me make pizza. You can knead the dough."

"That sounds like a terrible euphemism," said Raph dryly. 

"I mean _you're_ the expert," said Mikey, snickering as he ducked away from a half-hearted swat in his direction. 

Considering the culminated awesomeness that was pizza, making it was surprisingly easy. Raph had never really paid it much mind. Mikey showed him how to make the dough, and while it sat in the oven to rise (Mikey called the yeast his "bacteria babies" which had Raph basically crawling up the walls with _nope_ ), they prepared the toppings.

"I want onions," said Raph, and Mikey rumpled his snout a little.

"Here you go, then," he said as he sat a big onion in Raph's one hand and a knife in the other. "You can make rings or chunks, I don't care."

"Aw, what?" asked Raph, staring at the onion.

"You want it, you cut it." 

"Whatever," muttered Raph, and went to work.

Peeling the onion wasn't that bad. But after the first cut into its flesh, the fumes hit Raph's sensitive nostrils, and there wasn't a single fucking thing Raph could do; his eyes started tearing up immediately. The tears were bitter and stung, and he blinked them away. They rolled over his cheeks and dripped off his jaw and streamed into his beak. He wiped his face dismissively on his shoulders. 

It was just an onion, Raph thought defiantly. So it was fine. Mikey didn't look at him twice and so Raph stood there, huffing and snuffling and blinking, and cried.

Mikey handed him a paper towel when he was done, and Raph wiped his face clean. 

"Feel better?" asked Mikey, and before Raph could overthink it, he said, "Yeah."

Then he looked up and at Mikey in surprise, but Mikey was already gathering up the chopped onion and didn't seem to think anything of it.

\--

That night, one of Dad's shows was running a TV special, so there was no way any of them had remote rights. They sat, resigned to their fate but still unhappy about it, on the couches and bean bags in the living room. 

"We should get more TVs," said Leonardo glumly, arms crossed in front of his plastron as he sulked next to their father. As much as they loved each other, soap operas were not something they could find common ground on. 

"Shh, Leonardo," said Splinter without looking away.

"Yeah! Like, a whole bunch of them. Like, enough to cover this entire wall!" said Mikey, spreading his hands out in a grand gesture to indicate the size of his imaginary TV wall. "We could all watch Netflix and the news and play games at the same time!"

"I'm sure I have a few old ones lying around," said Donatello. "Should I fix them up?"

"Watching TV rots the brain," said Raphael. "Makes ya dumb."

"Only when you watch dumb stuff," said Leonardo. "Like wrestling. Or soap operas."

"My sons!" said Splinter. "Let me watch this."

All four of them groaned and stared back at their phones.

Although it was late enough that Raph didn't expect their human friends to be online, Casey's profile switched to online even as he looked, and then he started typing.

Casey  
> Raph  
> Holy shit  
> I just heard the best joke ever.   
> You ready?  
> A family comes to check into a hotel. The father goes to the front desk and says, I hope the porn is disabled.   
> The front guy looks at him and says, it's just normal porn you sick fuck. 

Raph snorted, startled, and chomped his jaws together, trying not to burst out laughing. It shook his frame, and he tucked his chin against his chest, trying to hide his face.

He noticed Mikey next to him was giving him a weird look, and Raph grinned at him widely as slowly the laughter bubbled out of him and turned his face dark.

"What's so funny?" asked Mikey, sensing an opportunity for entertainment.

Raph didn't have the air to reply, just wheezed and shook his head.

"Let me see," said Mikey with a grab for Raphael's phone. 

"No!" said Raph, laughing openly now. He managed to hold his phone up high enough for Mikey not to reach with his half-hearted swat, but he wasn't prepared for Leo to suddenly be behind the couch and snatching it right out of his hands.

"No, don't look," said Raph, too preoccupied with laughing to fight back against Leo's thievery. "It's not—it's not f-f-funny. Give it—give it back!"

Leo had started reading the joke aloud to their family, but never made it to the punchline. "Oh," he said instead, snout rumpled. "That is so uncool, dude."

"I told you it's not funny!" said Raph, making a weak attempt to grab his phone. Leo relinquished it to Mikey instead. Mikey gleefully took it to check, finished reading and chuckled a little, but he clearly was more amused by his brother's intense reaction than the joke itself.

"You two have the weirdest sense of humor," he said, handing Raph's phone along to Donatello. 

"Oh, I get it," Donnie agreed as he finished reading. "God, Raphael. Did you mature past thirteen years old?"

"Oh my god, you guys _suck_ ," said Raph, and snagged his phone back from Don. "I can't wait until I'm allowed to leave again, because you are _no_ fun."

"Compared to Casey? Oh I _bet_ ," said Mikey, and Raph threw a throw pillow at his face, and Splinter demanded they either shut up and settle down or take this to the dojo. 

They settled down, and Raph was aware that Mikey and Donnie exchanged looks where they sat next to each other, but it didn't matter. His heart was warm and tight and he was smiling as he texted Casey back.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine a lot of you are still shook over Rise of the TMNT. I definitely am. I'm upset and I feel helpless. So I decided to put up this chapter in hopes it might make a few of you happy, or at least offer some distraction while we get through this.
> 
> That said...
> 
> I'm very happy so many of you enjoyed Casey's terrible joke last chapter. I cannot claim ownership however as I am German and we're infamously not funny. So I was searching for bad jokes on the internet and that one left me in tears. Glad to know my readers have the same terrible taste as me. 
> 
> Otherwise you probably wouldn't be here, eh. 
> 
> Oh yeah and that said, I'm gonna remind everyone why the 'mutant anatomy' tag is up there with this one. Sorry/you're welcome, whatever is more appropriate.

It had only two days since he'd been grounded but slowly but surely, Raph was going stir crazy. Mike's supervision was starting to get real sloppy, too—Orange could only focus on one project for so long, and babying Raph got old fast when you had to do it 24/7. 

Thankfully for Raph, Casey had no problem with texting while he was at work, but it still meant that their conversations were interrupted frequently. So Raph still had to find something to do while he waited in the breaks in-between. 

So he stalked around the lair looking for ways to entertain himself. 

Usually Raph would fill his hours with lots and lots of working out, but Dad has confiscated all his equipment so he couldn't cheat. Raph still cheated, and snuck in squats and push-ups whenever nobody was around. (He suspected Dad knew in a 'parents-know-all-the-shit-you-don't-want-them-to-know' way, but he didn't say anything.)

Bored enough to try, Raph rifled through Leo's library. Besides a lot of non-fiction literature Raph didn't even bother to read the blurbs of, the comics were a relief. Raph didn't care much about most of them, but surprisingly, Leo owned a few stray issues of _Deadpool_ and _Venom_ which was good enough for Raph.

Mikey managed to cajole him into sitting for some life drawings—which were _good_ , Raph just didn't like sitting around and doing nothing for extended periods of time. Now though, he had nothing better to do. So he tried to sit still as he darned a few holes in their clothes. 

Dad came over to watch over Michelangelo's shoulder and loved the drawings so much that he asked Mikey for the page in his sketchbook to hang it up framed in his room. Both sons were very embarrassed about this but Dad simply pretended not to notice. 

Raph went to redecorate the magazine clippings and posters and photos on the wall by his bunk. 

He relieved his brothers of most of their chores and even scrubbed the bathroom. 

With even that done, he plucked his phone out of his pocket and texted Casey.

Raph  
> AAAAAAA  
> i'm going insane man  
> being grounded sucks

And lo and behold, Casey's little online status dot switched to green!

Casey  
> I believe it bro

Raph  
> i'm bored outta my mind  
> how come you're online  
> work boring you?

Casey  
> Omw to hockey practice actually

Raph  
> today?  
> isn't it mondays usually?

Casey  
> Yeah but we got a game on Friday and are doing some extra hours  
> It's good tho, work has been annoying so I'm kinda glad to have something to look forward to

Raph  
> i believe it  
> well have fun  
> i don't have anything to look forward to anymore  
> so i'll just  
> fuckign  
> die out of boredom i guess  
> get me a nice headstone

Casey  
> Here lies Raphael Hamato  
> He could deadlift this headstone np

Raph  
> you better believe i could!

Casey  
> Of course you can bro, I know your record  
> How long are you grounded for anyway?

Raph didn't actually know.

\--

He knelt down in front of the shoji to Dad's room and cleared his throat. "Dad?" he asked, just loud enough for his voice to carry.

"You may enter, my son," Dad said from inside.

Raph opened the shoji and shuffled inside, kept his gaze low on the tatami until he reached the general vicinity of Dad's low table. Dad was on the other side, reading and drinking tea. 

"How may I help you, Raphael?" Splinter asked patiently. 

"Uhm," said Raph, rubbing his neck. "Am I... still grounded?"

"Hm," said Splinter. He put his book aside and sipped his tea. "Are you?"

Raph dared to raise his gaze a little more. Dad didn't look mad, just testing and endlessly, abysmally patient. 

"I'm guessin' yes?" said Raph carefully.

"Do you feel that it is unjust, my son?" asked Splinter. 

Raph huffed, rotating his shoulders a little. He was tense. He missed working out. He was starting to miss going topside. Even a boring supply run with Leo sounded great, by now. 

At the same time... being grounded was such a good excuse to stay holed up. 

"No," he said slowly. 

"Good," said Splinter. "Tell me if that changes."

"Sure," said Raph, who wasn't really sure of anything, least of all his father's weird backwards parenting. 

\--

When Raph re-emerged from Splinter's room, Leo was waiting for him.

"Well?" he asked in a hushed voice, well aware of the fact that Japanese screen walls were aesthetically pleasing but not good at keeping sound out. 

Raph shrugged. "Still grounded," he said.

Leo's face fell a little. He frowned. Raph was about to wave him off, but Leo actually grabbed him by the wrist to drag him along, and Raph immediately bristled because he hated when Leo got commanding like this—but then Leo commandeered him into Donnie's lab and closed the door and Donnie had a moment to look up from his monitor confusedly before Leo threw up his arms and exclaimed, heatedly, "He is _totally_ overreacting!"

Raph stared for a second, digesting that. "It's... fine," he finally managed, unsure of his footing. 

"Is it though?" asked Leo. "Admittedly I was shocked you were ballsy enough to drink. And that Casey enabled you— _mā_ you two are just dragging each other down in a never-ending spiral of sheer stupidity sometimes—but at least you were _honest_ about it. And, while it was _dumb_ , it's not like you got into trouble or anything. I think punishing you for this long is _excessive_."

"Agreed," Donnie said softly, with an inflection that said, _I know more than I am comfortable with relinquishing, so I'm just agreeing with Leo because it's easier because at least that way he won't ask me questions_. 

"I'm gonna talk to him—" Leo decided, and was about to turn around, but Raph grabbed him by the shoulders. 

"No, look," Raph said. "Bro. Leo, I appreciate it, but really, it's... fine."

"Why are you so chill about this?" asked Leo suspiciously. "I would have expected you to stomp around and throw a gigantic tantrum."

" _Tantrum_?" Raph repeated, immediately irritated. He took his hands off Leo's shoulders like he was gross.

Leo rolled his eyes a little. "You know what I mean," he said, expression flat.

"No," said Raph testily. "I don't. Care to explain?"

"You were getting along not ten seconds ago!" Donnie lamented, voice raised over them. "How do you manage to turn _every conversation_ into an argument?"

"I don't—" said Leo and Raph, at the same time. They both looked at each other and then smiled a little, sheepishly. 

Raph sighed and rubbed his neck, staring anywhere but at his brother. "Look, Leo... 's bad enough Dad's on my tail. Can you just let it rest?"

"Very well." Leo brushed himself off like after a physical argument, smoothing out his yukata. "Well, since you have nothing better to do, how about we head to the dojo for some sparring?"

"Didn't Dad say no training?" asked Donnie.

"No, he didn't," said Leo smoothly. "He said no _working out_ , that's something entirely different." 

Raph snickered and loved Leo a little in that moment. 

Leo smiled at him, eyes warm and crinkled with mirth. "Besides," he added, "I'll make sure his form is _textbook_ ninjutsu."

"Oh, fuck off," said Raph, rolling his eyes, but he bumped shoulders with Leo companionably as they walked.

\--

Casey  
> Hey Raph  
> Check this out  
> [IMG_95730_04833.png]

Their messenger app was designed by Donatello, who thought thumbnails were dumb, which meant Raph had to actually click on the file name and open it in a file viewer. 

He was greeted with a (badly taken) picture of what looked like Casey's upper thigh. Raph was familiar with the view and (current short surge of gay panic notwithstanding) wouldn't have thought much of it, but the point was clearly not Casey's thigh in on itself but the fact that the entire length of it was _covered_ in a bruise. Like, a foot long, easily. It was fresh and red and purple and looked _nasty_.

Raph was very impressed.

Raph  
> yikes man  
> how's the other guy look?

Casey  
> Lol  
> Worse easily  
> That was me preventing a goal  
> Worth it

Raph  
> nice dude!  
> looks nasty 

Casey  
> Yep. It hurts like a motherfucker lmao  
> And I'm only getting more until Friday and then I'll probably need all of the weekend until I can move again 

Raph  
> aw boo fucking hoo you big baby  
> like you didn't ask for it

Casey  
> I mean, I totally did  
> Pretty sure you have to be into painplay if you play hockey, right?  
> That's really the only explanation.  
> That, or you like brain damage I guess

Raph  
> painplay  
> the fuck are you on about?

Casey  
> Oh don't gimme that innocent schlock, I don't buy it  
> Pain can be kinda nice and you know it

Raph  
> i don't actually  
> what the fuck is wrong with you man

Casey  
> Remind me again who said the other day that you love being sore after a good work out  
> It's the same bro  
> Don't be oblivious

Raph   
> no it ain't  
> shut off  
> *up  
> fuck you  
> wtf

Casey  
> Sure, be oblivious and pretend it doesn't get you off when you get into a good fight.

"That's not what that is!" said Raph, loudly, toward his phone, which did absolutely nothing. He huffed through his nose and then angrily typed his response.

Raph  
> switch to fucking golf if you want a no contact kinda sport, asshole

Casey  
> First of all, I would absolutely DESTROY your ass in golf  
> Second, where's the fun in that  
> I'm a physical guy, I need a physical sport  
> And like I said  
> Can be nice

And then, because he truly was an asshole, Casey added:

Casey  
> ;)

A couple of months ago, Raph would have known how to respond. His brain wouldn't have short-circuited and immediately latched on to new memories all too fresh on his mind. That was exactly what happened now, though. Raph sat there, dumbstruck, thinking of nothing but a vague combination of _Casey_ and _physical_ and _;)_ and the picture of his naked thigh with a giant fresh bruise on it that Raph somehow wanted to press his thumb into, if only to see what it would do.

He knew not replying was weird though, and panic gripped him because the silence between them stretched like gum. He completely blanked on anything funny or witty or even just _normal_ to respond with. 

His thumbs, however, typed as if they had a life of their own, though it seemed they were detached from any higher brain functions, because what they wrote was so horrendous that Raph would have vetoed it if he'd known how. 

As it were, Raph could only spectate helplessly as they typed and then _sent_ what they had written. And then it was there in a little (customized, set to red) speech bubble in Casey's chat window:

Raph  
> we'll just have to see about that, won't we

Petrified, he yeeted his phone away from himself and ran to see what his brothers were doing, too embarrassed to see what Casey would reply. 

\--

Sometime Thursday morning, Raph woke up with a start, half-lifting himself off the bed. It was dark. Below him, Michelangelo was still asleep. The lair was silent, and all Raph heard was his own breathing; a little too fast, a little too tense.

A dream, already vague and frayed at the edges, lingered on his mind. 

Raph breathed, trying not to pant, as he took several moments to take inventory of what was going on. He was in his bed, it was still night, and what he thought had happened was only a dream. The memory of Casey... and... what exactly?—was already fading. But the memory stayed, warm in the deepest pit of his stomach, warm in his face, warm through his tail. 

The feeling was unwanted. Raph recognized it for what it was, but that didn't make it any more comfortable. 

Raph took a few additional moments to just sit. Tried to get back to sleep, to relax again. It was too hot under the blanket, but he felt exposed without it. In the bunk beneath him, Mikey shifted in his sleep, rocking the bed frame. 

The close proximity of a brother was weirding him out. Raph sat up and jumped out of bed. 

"Raph," muttered Mikey, more asleep than awake. He didn't even open his eyes. "Don't leave."

"I'm just going to pee, Mikey, go back to sleep," said Raph. Mikey didn't even answer, and Raph hurried away into the bathroom. 

He didn't switch on any lights and just closed the door behind him and leaned against it for another moment to collect himself. 

He didn't really remember what he'd even dreamed of. No memory remained, only a feeling; something weird and vague and intangible but uncomfortably, undeniably sexual. 

Raph of course knew of the _concept_ of sex dreams. He couldn't, however, remember a single time in his life that one had happened to _him_. And why would it? Without any real interest in ever doing anything (aside from the sticking, uncomfortable feeling of being _weird_ , being _wrong_ ) and without anyone to even do it with, where would the necessary fuel for a dream even have come from?

But things had _changed_ , hadn't they, and if anyone asked Mikey, Raph probably wasn't a virgin anymore. Or at least substantially less than before. 

None of these thoughts brought any comfort. 

Well, at least it was the middle of the fucking night. 

The bathroom door didn't lock because everyone in Raph's stupid family was co-dependent and hated privacy, apparently. All Raph could do was lever his weight against it, making sure his bulk would stop any unfortunate brother who tried to barge in. He put his weight into his thighs, went down into a squat. 

With the luxury of an outside perspective, Raph thought mammals were a poor design choice. External genitalia was just dumb. But at least it was very apparent when a guy was aroused, which was not something Raph could say for himself. He could take a guess, but that was pretty much it until further confirmation. 

Raph huffed, anxiety tingling in his scales.

He loosened the knot that held his sweatpants together. The elastic was long worn out by his bulk, by the stretch expected of it over the dome of his shell and the sharp edges of his plastron. Strings (or makeshift belts) were really the only thing that allowed them to even wear pants.

He reached his hand under the waistband, across the hard edge of his plastron and between his legs to feel for his tail. 

Yep. Warm, sensitive; it felt full and rigid and moving it bordered on uncomfortable. His cloaca felt soft and damp in comparison as he carefully brushed his fingertips over it, probing. The muscles twitched without his say-so. 

"Fucking goddammit," said Raph emphatically into the empty silence and comforting darkness of the bathroom. "Are you goddamn fucking kiddin' me with this shit, Jesus fuckin' Christ, goddammit."

His arousal was not deterred by the outburst at all, but Raph still felt a little better. 

So this was just going to be a thing now, yeah; sexy dreams? About _Casey Jones_? Talk about bad taste! Casey was...

He was...

He wasn't...

He was just—!

 _Ugh_! This _sucked_. 

Well, there were two options. Ignore it and go back to sleep, or take the obligatory cold shower. Which seemed easier than the mental ordeal of meditating away a boner, but if he took a cold shower now, he would have to bask under the heat light after, and it was still the middle of the night. 

(—and of course an unspeakable, unthinkable third option that really wasn't an option at all. Not with unlockable doors and his family so close.)

Raph realized he had his hand still lying on his cloaca with just a little bit of pressure that felt comforting. He snarled at himself and let go.

Ignoring it and going back to bed it was. He carefully rose out of his squat, tucking his tail into place where he always curled it against himself so it wouldn't get in the way. He didn't feel courageous to actually leave the bathroom just yet though, so he went to do his business, and it took him a moment until he could even pee, which was simply embarrassing. Ugh. He tied his sweatpants back into place afterwards resolutely.

He washed his hands, all the way to his pulse points to cover them with cold water. He washed his face, too, rubbing until it hurt. 

Whatever dream fragments had lingered with him upon waking were scattered like wisps of fog. His arousal ebbed, unattended. 

But the knowledge remained. 

\--

Casey sometimes felt like he had a secret identity. His days were pretty normal, all things considered. He got up, he got to work and slaved 9 to 5 at _Charles' Auto and Repair_. 

He went to hockey practice once a week, he had buddies to drink and party with, he visited his Ma in North Hampton twice a month if he could. Sometimes he dove into the maelstrom of online dating to see if he could get lucky. 

It was all pretty average for a guy in his twenties, he thought. 

... aaand then there was the fact that four of his closest friends weren't human. And not only that, but they also did ninjutsu. And on like, black belt level or some shit, because their father (a _rat_ , just btw) had been the master of an ancient clan or whatever. And they lived in the sewers. 

That was, uh. That was pretty wild, right? 

Yeah, it probably was.

Sometimes Casey wondered if he was supposed to freak out more about it all. Then again, April lived pretty much the same life, and she was pretty cool and collected about everything. And compared to him, she was actually a great role model, so if she just rolled with it, Casey was pretty sure it was okay to just shrug it off and do the same. 

Even before meeting the turtles, he'd already been convinced that they weren't alone in the universe anyway. There were probably, what, talking brain-aliens out there or something. No, mutant turtles weren't shocking Casey much. 

Getting it on with one seemed, uh, seemed to be a bit more of a deal. 

Casey knew he had a pretty high base level of _thirsty_ on any given day, but recent developments had him stare vacantly into the middle distance a lot more than he was otherwise used to. 

Considering how freaked out said mutant turtle had been tough, Casey thought it was very important right now that he remain squarely in control, to provide the sort of safe setting one needed when exploring their sexuality. Something like that, yeah. Despite never having had a big freakout over being into guys himself (the fear of his deadbeat father finding out notwithstanding; then again, _fuck_ him, right?), Casey knew how much it sucked to wake up one day and realize your world had been turned upside down. 

It was his phone chiming in his pocket that woke him from his thoughts, and Casey realized he'd stood over his sink, mindlessly brushing the same side of his teeth for a while, foam dribbling down his chin. 

So much for spacing out recently. 

He spat and wiped his face as he checked his messages.

April  
> Hey Case  
> I'm heading over to the boys 2nite after work, u comin

Casey  
> Can't, hockey practice  
> Hey when you get there, make sure Raph's ok for me yeah, he's been grounded all week

April  
> Oh no  
> Case  
> Casey  
> Casemaster  
> What did u do

Casey had half a mind to be honest and tell her—this was April, after all; she scored way high on the bro chart. Then again, it was a really shitty thing to kiss and tell, especially when a questioning mutant turtle was involved. 

Despite the names Raph liked to call him, Casey wasn't _actually_ an asshole. 

Casey  
> Nothing big. Let him have some beers. Splinter must've sniffed it out. 

April  
> Oh Casey  
> You're a terrible influence.

Casey  
> Thanks, I try

April  
> Well I'll let the boys know you said hi  
> Give big Raphie a kiss from you

Casey  
> Oh, please do  
> He'll HATE that

And even as he typed it, he wondered.

\--

With two brothers already knowing, Raph wasn't even super sure anymore if he was actually getting good at pretending everything was fine or if Dad and Leo just had the common decency to pretend they didn't notice. Dad might ( _please_ ) but Leo certainly wouldn't; entitled asshole that he tended to be. 

But nobody said anything. Raph wasn't going to question it.

They ate breakfast, then got together in the dojo for morning practice. After that Mikey prepared lunch. To his surprise, Raph asked if he could help, all on his own. Mikey accepted his brother's company happily. Raph's chopped veggies were getting a lot better, too. 

Raph lamented over possible muscle atrophy in the afternoon, wallowing sprawled out on the couch in a miserable puddle of bored turtle and making a big show out of how fuckin' miserable he was, until Splinter finally allowed him his weights back. 

Raph probably would have done nothing but work out until it was bedtime again, but just a little later, the door to the lair was opened from the outside. It wasn't a big source of alarm because only two people who lived topside knew the access key. 

Mikey's excited screech alerted everyone of their surprise visitor before she had a chance to announce herself. " _Aaapriii_ l!" 

"Heya there, Mikester," she said affectionately, accepting him into her arms as he ran up to hug her, complete with lifting her off the ground and twirling her around.

"April!" said Leo happily, getting off the couch to pull her into his arms next. "I didn't know you'd drop by! What brings you here?"

"What, like I need a reason to hang out with you guys?" she said and squeezed him dearly. "Rude, man."

Leo snickered a little. "That's not what I mean and you know it," he said as he released her. 

"Heya Ape," said Raph from the couch with a lazy wave.

"Oh my god, are you too cool now to get up and give me a hug?" she asked as she walked over, tugging his mask tails.

"Raph is grounded," said Mikey. "So we're being nice to him."

"We are?" asked Leo, and Mikey swatted him.

"I heard! Casey told me," said April. She let herself fall down to the couch next to Raph, forcibly leaning onto him until he relinquished some sofa space to her while she slung an arm around his neck to pull him back close to her. "What did you do this time?"

"'This time?'" Raph said surly. "What, like I get grounded all the time?"

"Eeeh, I mean kinda!" April said cheerfully. "There was that time you broke a window topside," she started, counting off her fingers, "and then the time you and Mike tried to one-up each other with stupid pranks and you killed all of Splinter's bonsais? _Aannd_ also kinda the time when you and Dee snuck into the zoo every night for like a week straight. God, Splints was mad. Ha! So, what's it this time?"

Before he could answer, Leo sighed. "Underage drinking," he said gravelly.

"That's all, really?" April looked vaguely disappointed. She had half expected Casey to play down whatever had really happened. "Tell me it at least wasn't the first time?"

"No," Raph admitted sheepishly, much to Leo's horror. April laughed and slapped Raph's shell with gusto. 

"Oh Raph, you're my favorite teenage rebel. I'm so proud of you," she said, and leaned up to him to plant a big, wet smooch on his cheek. 

"No, ew, blech, eugh!" said Raph, theatrically sticking out his tongue in disgust, though the lack of strength as he shoved at her and the telling curl in the corner of his mouth told everyone he wasn't upset at all. 

"Aw, what are you, twelve?" laughed April, playfully jostling him. "Accept my damn affection! Guys line up for that shit, you know." 

"Whatever," said Raph. "Kissing's gross."

April snorted. "Oh, is it?"

"Oh," said Mikey. "Is it?"

Raph stared at him, mouth flat. Mikey stared back. Raph pulled the corners of his mouth down slowly. Mikey shrugged exaggeratedly.

April watched the exchange with her eyebrows raised. 

"Donnie is in the lab if you wanna say hi," Raph told her quickly. "He probably has headphones on and didn't hear you."

"Yeah I'mma say hi," said April, patted Raph gently on the shell again before she got up to saunter to the lab and check in on the reclusive genius. 

"Aw, now they're gonna talk science and she won't come out for like another hour!" lamented Mikey, running after her. "April, waiit!"

"Oh my god, give the poor woman space!" said Raph, detaching himself from the couch to catch up to Mike and tug his mask tassels loose to stop him in his tracks. 

But they all hadn't seen her in a while, and wherever April was was where the action was, so it was little surprising that all brothers hounded her in Donnie's lab, who initially was a little overwhelmed with the attention but quickly grew accustomed to the family hijacking his lab for their shenanigans. 

They ended up migrating back to the living room anyway because of the lack of space, deciding to play some games in what little time April had with them.

When it was time to leave and April was collecting her things, she half-turned to Raph. "Hey, Raph?" she asked as she shouldered her bag. "Can you come see me out? I'm always worried I don't close the door right."

"What? Just pull it—" Raph began to say, saw the way April gave him a Look, and stopped himself. "Uh. Yeah. Sure," he said instead and got off the couch to jog a few steps to catch up with her to accompany her to the heavy steel door that guarded their lair.

"Hey," she said softly to him as she stepped outside. "Are you okay?"

"Ugh, not you too," he muttered and rubbed a hand over his beak. 

"What, three brothers and your Dad already gave you the talk?" she asked with a smirk. "Guess I'm late for the party."

He snorted a little, relaxing over the joke, and April grinned at him. "No, seriously, what'd Casey and you get up to?" She gave him a playful punch to the arm. "Do I have to, I dunno, kick his door down and twist his ear?"

"I mean," said Raph with an exaggerated shrug, "you know us. Dumb and dumber, we get up to shenanigans all the time. No need to stress over it. I got this."

She looked skeptical but then smiled up at him, her eyes soft. "Okay, Big Red," she said, and reached her arm out to pull him in for another hug. Out of his brothers' sight, he allowed himself to tuck his face into her neck for a moment and relish in the soft embrace. She let him down easy when she kissed his cheek again, so he could grunt in disgust at her and shove her away and pretend he hated it. 

April cackled at him and waved as she turned to leave. He watched her go, and then pulled the door to the lair closed.

\--

On Friday, when the boys got up, they had a message from Casey waiting in the group chat.

Casey  
> Guys  
> It's my game tonight  
> You coming?

\--

"Please, can I go?" asked Raph. "Please please _please_ can I go?"

Splinter considered his son who was in front of him in seiza with his snout pressed against the tatami, begging with all the demure Japaneseness he could muster. 

"If you wish it so," he said, and Raph looked up with relief washing his anxious features into something soft and boyish. "If you find that you've had enough time to think things over."

"Oh, yeah," said Raph, nodding eagerly. "Totally. Very."

"Very well," said Dad. "Then you are ungrounded. Have fun. Wish Mr Jones luck for his game."

"Will do, Dad! Thanks!" said Raph as he jumped to his feet, running off to tell his brothers they could all leave together. 

They filled their bags with snacks and drinks and pillows and blankets and raced through the sewers all the way to the stadium, scaled the building with a mix of ninjutsu and mutant strength and agility. They took to the air vents and ended up in the rafters where they quickly assembled a comfortable little nest for themselves to watch the game.

None of them was even super into hockey, not even Raph if he was completely honest. He liked pro wrestling, Mikey wasn't really a sports guy at all, Leo really liked basketball and Donnie was all E-sports. But this was their first outing together in a while, and their friend being down there playing made everything a little more special. 

So even though three of them were wobbly on the rules, and the fourth one only knew because his best friend would gladly explain them at every opportunity, they hooted and booed and winced with every charge, tackle and goal.

In the end, Casey's team won, but only because the other team did a nasty foul on every turtle's favorite player in the last half, and Casey's team scored the necessary goal to win in retaliation. 

It was very gratifying to watch. Raph, Mikey, Donnie and Leo cheered around mouthfuls of pizza as Casey's team crashed into each other on the ice to celebrate. Mikey and Raph plastron-bumped and Leo tugged them into his right and Donnie into his left arm and squeezed them tight. Over the clamor down below they could cheer as loudly as they wanted.

\-- 

Everyone wanted to meet Casey as quickly as possible after the game, but the amount of humans in and around the stadium meant the turtles needed to be careful. They took the rooftops to Casey's apartment complex building, and after a bit of waiting that was easily passed with excited chattering, Casey finally joined them, still carrying his gear because he hadn't stopped to set it down and looking worse for wear but very happy as he let himself be congratulated on his win.

There was a round of high threes and hugs and chest bumps. Raphael, being himself, almost toppled Casey over with his vigor and grabbed him by the arm to steady him before he fucking fell over like an idiot.

"Ow!" gasped Casey, shaking Raph off. "Christ, that's gonna be one hell of a bruise later."

"That foul was nasty," said Leo with wide eyes. "Very poor sportsmanship on their part, really."

"Aw c'mon, it's not that bad," said Casey, giving him a friendly shove that Leo gracefully allowed. "Half of the fun of hockey is to beat people up, after all."

Leo shook his head. "I worry about you sometimes, Casey," he said.

"I get by okay," Casey said with a grin.

Leo rolled his eyes, not quite succeeding in hiding his smile. Then he turned to his brothers. "Okay, it's getting late," he told them. "We ought to go."

"What?" Raph's elation fell visibly off his face, and he shouldered past Casey to stand in front of Leo. "No! I haven't seen my baby in like a week!" he complained, throwing his hands up. 

"Your... what?" asked Leo dumbly while in the background Mikey and Donatello went through a range of complicated facial expressions.

"Uh, the _Shell Cycle_?!" said Raph impatiently, like his brothers were idiots. "She's in Casey's garage and I haven't seen her in a week?"

Leo digested that visibly. "You gave your motorcycle a name?" he asked, looking toward Casey as if he could provide a better explanation, but getting none.

"She's a she?" asked Mikey. "That seems like an... _odd_ choice."

"Hardly!" said Donnie, blinking too much. "Ships are historically female," he continued, clearly running on autopilot as a defense tactic against thinking too much or too deep about the conversation. "It's not outlandish to extend this custom to a motorcycle. In fact, since the tradition comes from the idea of having a female figure like a goddess or mother as guidance at sea and considering we all probably have mother issues—"

"I don't," said Casey. 

"Oh yeah, because immediately reminding everyone is a _real_ good sign that you don't," scoffed Raph, fist already curled to punch Casey in the arm, but he remembered that he was already plenty hurt and lowered his hand again.

"He can be _so_ self-observant when it's not actually about him," said Donatello, sounding amazed.

Raph punched Donnie instead.

" _Guys_ ," said Leo, exasperated, before turning back to Raph. "Look Raph, Dad let you out for a game, I don't think—"

"He said I'm _ungrounded_ , I can do whatever the hell I want," said Raph aggressively. "I don't need your permission to stay."

"Oh, I was getting worried we'd have an outing together without the traditional Raph-Leo-argument," Donnie said dryly, still rubbing his arm where Raph's punch had landed. "I'm glad I'm getting one, I would want my money back otherwise."

Mikey shot him a look because he knew Purple was only pouring oil into the fire and tried to intervene. "Come _on_ Leo, nobody cares," he said, tugging on Leo's arm. "He was holed up for like a week. You said yourself that was way too long."

Leo frowned and looked from Raph to Mikey and back. "Fine," he said sternly. "Stay if you want. But no more drinking!" he added, actually pointing a warning finger.

Raph rolled his eyes but said, "Yeah, 'kay."

Leo bristled a little bit over his attitude. "What, you wanna get grounded for another week?"

"I make my own damn decisions, Leo," said Raph plainly, defiance in his crossed arms.

Leo huffed and visibly forced down the need to argue. He turned to Casey instead. "I trust you to be the responsible one here," he told him. "And I know that must be a wild concept for you to grasp."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Leo," said Casey lazily, leaning against a hockey stick. 

"I swear I'll find out and I _will_ tell Dad otherwise," Leo threatened. 

Casey snickered and put a hand on his heart. "Alright, jeez. Leo, I swear to my Ma that we'll be perfectly reasonable."

Mikey muttered something to himself but Leo chose to ignore it. "That's the biggest lie I ever heard," said Leo, but shook his head and let it rest. "Fine! Stay. You better come home sometime though, and not during _breakfast_."

"Let it rest, Leo, let's go!" said Mikey, again tugging Leo's arm. 

Even as they left, they could be heard arguing among themselves, and Casey and Raph remained standing on the rooftop as they watched the brothers until they vanished into the night. 

Raph still had his arms loosely crossed over his plastron and was glad for it, because he didn't know what to do with his hands. Things were gonna be weird after all, huh; Raph had thought what with them texting over the last couple of days nothing would have changed, but—

Just like that, Casey shouldered the duffel bag with his gear and turned around. "Dunno about you but I need something to eat," he announced.

"Uh," said Raph, struggling for a moment as he realized Casey just skipped the entire awkwardness of the situation to go right back to normalcy. Casey started to climb down the fire escape like this was any other ordinary night.

"We kinda pigged out during the game," said Raph as he hurried to follow along. 

"I guess that makes sense," said Casey. It sounded a little strained.

Raph noticed he was slow to descend the stairs and favored a leg. Yeah, he had been hurt pretty bad, hadn't he? And Casey was tough, sure, but still. 

Without asking, Raph leaned in to grab Casey's duffel bag, lifting it over his own shoulder.

"Hey!" said Casey, making a futile grab at his gear, but Raph just leaned out of the way.

"Dude, ya were hurt. And you've been doin' training all week. Ya need to not strain yerself anymore than this," he said and (gently) pushed Casey further down the stairs towards his apartment. "And put ice on that leg, keeps the swelling down."

"God, who are you, my Ma?" said Casey, but he let himself be pushed. "Or Leo?"

"Oh I can turn up the Leo if that's what gets you to fuckin' do what I tell ya." Raph rolled his eyes, unaffected. 

"You talkin' from experience there, or..." said Casey, laughing, as he heaved the window to his living-/bedroom open. Getting one leg over the windowsill was no problem, but when he tried to lift the injured one, the pain was obvious in his face. Raph hesitated a moment, then secured the duffel over his shoulder, leaned over and grabbed Casey around his back and under the legs.

He lifted him up.

"Fuckin'—" Casey exclaimed, grabbing on to Raph's shell for support. "What the fuck, Raph—"

"Shut up, Casey," said Raph. In all honesty it probably made things more complicated than they already were—only in the sense of getting them _both_ through the window, of course! Nothing else. They were both big guys, after all. Too stubborn to admit that this had probably been a bad plan, Raph squeezed them both through resolutely, interlaced with choice expletives by both of them. 

"Just—stop yappin' and sit yer ass down," said Raph as he let Casey down again when they finally clambered through.

Casey huffed and hobbled over to his sofa bed—a couch today for once, his bedding and pillows a lumpy heap over the backrest against the wall.

Raph watched until he was sure his idiot best friend was actually sitting down, then nodded. "Put that leg up," he said. "I'll get you something to eat."

"What—" Casey started to say, and watched as Raph stalked into the kitchenette. He didn't think he'd ever seen Raph in a kitchen for something besides checking the fridge for leftovers or making coffee. 

"That week being grounded really mellowed you the fuck out, huh?" he asked, slowly sinking back against the cushions. His leg _did_ hurt. He was glad to be sitting down finally. 

"Dunno," said Raph from the kitchenette. "Maybe." He opened the fridge to check for its contents. It held a gallon of milk that didn't pass Raph's sniff test (nothing like sensitive turtle noses to sniff out spoiled food), some bread ("Bread doesn't go in the fridge!" screeched Mind-Donatello, so Raph put it on the counter instead), a pathetic looking jar of pickles, a couple of beers. And nothing else.

"Man, this is the saddest fucking thing I've ever seen," said Raph, emerging to stare at Casey in the living room. "How are you not dead yet?"

"Tenaciousness," said Casey, carefully stretching the bad leg out with a strained sigh. 

Raph rumpled his snout and checked the ice box. Besides ice packs, it was empty. He threw one of them at Casey, who caught it out of the air and put it on his leg, leaning into the cushions. 

Raph rifled through Casey's cabinets and found a lonely box of pasta and sauce in a jar. "'s that okay?" he asked as he presented Casey with the findings.

"Yeah man," said Casey. "Thanks. Didn't know you could cook."

"'s not so much cookin' as heatin' shit up," said Raph dismissively, searching through the cabinets for kitchenware. "Mike showed me some stuff the past week. 's not actually that hard. Kinda gratifying actually." He put a pot on the stove to bring water to a boil. That done (because this really wasn't cooking; there weren't even chopped veggies involved) he came back to Casey in the living room. 

Casey was all over the couch, taking up all the space. Raph sat down on the edge carefully so he didn't jostle him too much.

"We should probably bandage that up," he said, waving a finger toward the bad leg. "So it doesn't swell to all hell."

"It's really no big deal," said Casey with a shrug. "Just a bruise."

"The size of a watermelon, yeah," grunted Raph. "Take your pants off, I'll take care of it."

Casey couldn't help but snort. "Really got a taste for that now, huh," he said. It was a joke, but Raph had punched him before he could think not to.

Casey yelped, cradling his already bruised shoulder. He'd also winced in on himself, moving the injured leg which only made matters worse. "Christ!" he said, rubbing his arm. "If you want my bruises to heal better, you're not helping!"

"Sorry," said Raph quickly, having realized that himself. He held his hands up apologetically, looking appropriately guilty. "Just don't... fucking... Don't _say_ shit like that, man."

Casey chuckled. "No way," he said. "You're such an easy target."

Raph growled at him, peeved, and without punching Casey, had no physical outlet for the irritation he felt. "Shut up," he growled. "Just for once do what I tell you, okay?" 

With that, he got up to stomp into the bathroom in search of Casey's first aid kit slash sport supplies. Rifling through the compartment behind the old mirror over his sink, he even found a tube of arnica ointment that wasn't expired yet. Small miracles.

When he came back, Casey was still on the couch, still dressed, and on his phone, like Raph hadn't left him with very clear instructions.

"Are you fucking stupid? Off with that," Raph said, bristling. "Don't make me fuckin' do it."

"What, would you want to?" asked Casey, and then quickly raised his arms to shield himself when Raph threw his findings at him. Considering none of it had good air velocity, it was a feeble attack and did nothing. Raph was already stomping back into the kitchenette to check if the water was boiling.

Casey laughed right at the big spiky shell he'd turned toward him. "Look, I'm just sayin', I think with what happened, it's nicer to ask!" he chuckled.

"Nothing happened!" barked Raph. 

That gave Casey pause. He settled back into the couch a little, bandages and ointment collected in his lap. "Raph," he said slowly, "listen..."

"No, you fuckin' listen!" said Raph, shell still turned toward him as he angrily opened the plastic wrapper of the spaghetti and angrily got the pasta out and angrily put it into the boiling water. "We _talked_ about this, we're fuckin' _fine_ , don't make this _weird_ or I'm _leavin'_."

Casey didn't say anything to that, or maybe Raph just didn't hear because of the boiling water and the blood thumping in his head and heart. He half-turned to Casey without being able to make eye-contact. 

"So, should I go?" he asked. "Or can ya be normal about this shit?" He rubbed a hand over his face. "Christ, Casey."

"I'm thinkin' I'm pretty normal about this and _you're_ bein' a bit weird, Raph," said Casey slowly. "You said you're cool with what happened but you're looking mighty jumpy there, bro."

Raph huffed where he stood and turned back to the stove to stir the pasta until he had breathed a few times. Casey gave him space. Raph threw the fork he'd used to stir in the counter top. 

"Fine," he said, petulantly. "Fine! Maybe I am. Sorry. It's just—"

Casey watched him a moment, the way the tendons in his neck stood out stiffly, the way his hands were curled into fists. His face had grown dark with a blush, half hidden under the red mask. But he had turned back around, and though he wasn't looking at him, there was a tilt to his hips where he leaned against the counter. 

"Strictly non-sexual taking off of pants, I get it," said Casey slowly. "Okay."

Raph huffed. "Yeah," he said. "I'm not gonna... I'm not gonna fuckin' suck your dick or whatever just because I think we should bandage your goddamn leg."

"Shame," said Casey. "It's like the perfect setup."

And Raph snorted and threw the fork at him out of principle. It missed amply, but the way the prongs dug into the plaster of the wall and it stuck there, vibrating with the force of its impact, made Casey stare back at Raph incredulously, but Raph just gave him a wide, nasty grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, they're unsupervised again........ oooohh........ that can't end well........... or......... CAN IT??? I'm on the edge of my seat!
> 
> Also. Everyone calls Leo 'Mamanardo' for his Worrying but it's very obvious that Raph is actually the mom friend. C'mon. Nobody dotes over his loved ones as well and as aggressively and manly as him.
> 
> Also also: Nobody tell Raph how queer-coded Venom and Deadpool are. Shh. He's gonna be weird about it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have good news and bad news.
> 
> The good news! We will _not_ be done in 16 chapters, as I originally planned. We'll need a couple more, but I can't say how many. This is mostly due to chapter 12 giving me so much trouble that I cut out a BIG chunk of it that I will need to implement later, and I need to find the time and place for it. The editing on this took me forever, as you can probably guess by how late this is.  
> Which brings me to...
> 
> Bad news! All the editing fucked up the entire structure of the fic. Gonna have to retcon a lot in future chapters. Rewrite a lot. Add shit. If I do my job well, you won't notice, but updates might be slower because I have a lot of work ahead of me.
> 
> (And I'm writing a fic for the Rise of the TMNT Big Bang which has a deadline and will probably be favored for a whiel as for as writing spoons go, but hey, more to look forward to, am I right?)
> 
> The betaing for this chapter was graciously done by the wonderful [Marron121](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marron121/pseuds/Marron121)! Check him out!

Raph applied the bandages around Casey's thigh like he did his wrappings before sparring, or helped Mikey do his (because Mikey was an airhead and never seemed to get it right): Quickly, efficiently, with years and years of practice. 

Nobody said anything about how he sat on the floor in front of Casey, between his naked thighs. Casey noticed the lack of jokes like a tiny pebble in his shoe. 

He had the good sense to turn on the television and let some cartoons run in the background. Otherwise the silence between them would have grown too loud.

With Casey's leg taken care of, Raph tended to their dinner and filled two bowls of spaghetti covered in sauce. It wasn't exactly a Mikey-level kind of dish, but Raph felt pretty good about it regardless. Good enough that he, even though he hadn't even been hungry, joined Casey on the couch to eat in front of the TV, watching a never ending rerun of old Simpsons episodes. 

Leg up and on ice and bandaged and now finally eating, Casey was pretty comfortable.

But Raph next to him was quiet.

It wasn't a big surprise, honestly. Raph's insistence that things were _fine_ and _not_ _weird_ was very clearly only a front. Question was when he'd be ready to talk about it.

Dumb jokes aside (that was on Raph for the great setups, anyway!), Casey knew better than to push. Whatever Big Red was working through, he needed time before he could stand to be needled about it.

And honestly, Casey thought that was pretty sensible, really. Sometimes you just had to be in your own head, right? But it was something neither Mikey nor Leo seemed to realize. Most of the time, in Casey's experience, Raphael was actually very self-aware, it was just that his brothers pestered him too early which only upped his defenses, and that made everything worse.

Casey thought it was kinda hilarious that he, of all people, seemed to be more patient than Leonardo. The guy thought meditation was a fun past-time, after all!

As Casey was still lost in thought, Raph put his empty bowl down. "Listen," he said.

"Uh-huh," said Casey around a mouthful of pasta. He still had half his portion ahead of him. How Raph could eat this fast was beyond him. 

"I... gotta tell you something," Raph admitted. "Don't freak out."

"You poisoned the food, didn't you," said Casey, mouth still full.

Raph stared at him bewildered. "What? No!" 

"Oh, good." Casey chuckled and nudged him in the side. "Can't be worse, then."

"Moron," Raph grunted, realizing he had fallen for a joke. He shook his head as if to clear it. "Mikey—" he began, and then let out a big sigh. "Mikey knows," he admitted, and sank a little into the backrest of the couch. 

Casey watched him, chewing. When no elaboration came, he asked, "Knows what?"

Raph frowned at him unhappily. He gestured vaguely between them, but opted to not say anything. 

Casey took a moment to digest that. He continued chewing, then swallowed. "You told him?"

Raph tensed. "No!" he said defensively. "Are you insane? He just... I dunno, Mikey has a fucking sixth sense for shit like that, he figured it out on his own."

"That sounds like him," muttered Casey, scraping up spaghetti. "If empathy is a superpower, it's definitely his."

Raph snorted with a soft roll of his eyes. "Right?"

They chuckled together and then Casey shrugged. "Well, whatever," he said. 

Raph sniffed a bit, unsure. "So..." he muttered, nervously wiping his hands on his thighs. "It don't freak you out?"

"No, not really." Casey shrugged again and finished his food. When Raph said nothing, he added, "Sounds like it freaks _you_ out though." 

Raph grimaced and crossed his arms over his plastron. "I mean, yeah? A little. I dunno." He shrugged and looked off to the side.

Casey hummed and put his bowl on the coffee table. "So if you didn't _tell_ him..." he said slowly. "How'd he figure it out?"

"Oh, god," Raph groaned, slowly rubbing a hand over his face to shield his eyes. "Don't fuckin' remind me; 's givin' me nightmares."

Casey snickered. "I mean, he didn't walk in on us, so it can't be worse, right?"

"I mean, it kinda is!" Raph groaned against his palm. Then he looked over, just so. "I, uh. I told you about how we smell better 'n humans, right?"

"Yeah?" said Casey carefully. Slowly, with very fresh impressions of what had happened last week, vague realization was dawning like foggy sunrise past the mountain range of understanding. 

Raph cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably and wobbled his leg nervously. "Well, he fuckin' said he could smell it," he finally admitted. "When I came home, I mean. Which is honestly creepin' me out. I mean I _showered_ after. So like, what the fuck, right?"

Casey stared at Raph for a moment, and Raph kept on bouncing his leg, hands tucked defiantly into his armpits and staring off to the side. Casey continued to say nothing, and as the seconds ticked by and prickled like needles into Raph's skin, Raph huffed audibly.

"'s the only fuckin' reason I bolted and got grounded in the first place!" he blurted if only to fill the silence with words. "It wouldn't've ever been a fuckin' thing if it weren't for fuckin' Mike. God he's so fuckin' nosy. One of these days I'm gonna move into the sewers just to get rid of him, fuck."

And when Casey still didn't say anything, Raph finally dared to peer over at him. "What?" he snapped, anxiety pouring out as aggression.

"That's..." Casey finally began. He visibly collected himself enough to even speak, blinking and shaking his head. "Oh my god, Raph, that is... totally what you did though."

"What?" asked Raph, too startled to not look Casey in the eye.

"You smelled me, right?" asked Casey, agitated suddenly when the pieces fell into place. "Or scented me or whatever. When you jerked me off. That's what you did; I thought it was weird but it makes so much sense now!"

From the look Raph gave him, Casey might as well have slapped him right in the face. Raph stared, face suddenly almost as dark and red as his mask, unable to say anything.

"You did," Casey insisted, because he had no common sense and no common decency, either. "Like, I could tell, dude. It didn't make sense at the time but you smell _better than me_ so you were smelling me the entire time you jerked me off and it was _so_ weird and _so_ hot!"

"It... What?" asked Raph, and he let his hands sink if only to shy away from Casey a little. 

And Casey, the dumbass, started grinning. "So does that do anything for you, or—" he began, and before Raph could stop himself, he had punched him in the arm.

"What the _fuck_ , 's not like I can _stop_!" he barked, his eyes wide and terrified and a stark contrast to his mask. "What do you want me to do; hold my breath?!"

Casey laughed. "Shit dude, I'm not gonna start breathplay with you before we—" and Raph punched him again. 

" _Fuck_ , Raph," yelled Casey, because the second one had actually hurt. "You gotta stop punching me in the bruises." He rubbed his arm, though the pain very clearly didn't stop him from making terrible choices, because he added, "If you keep this up you're gonna give me a boner again."

It was a surefire way to peeve Raph and _not_ get hit again. Casey laughed as Raph basically _vaulted_ himself off the couch to storm into the kitchen just to get away from him. 

"Get back here, idiot," Casey called after him, still laughing. "Hey!"

"You suck!" wailed Raph from the kitchenette.

"Pretty good too," Casey said, because of course he did. 

_"I'm fuckin' leaving_!" Raph heaved the kitchen window open.

"Raph!" Casey laughed. He knew that Raph knew that the kitchen didn't have a ledge or fire escape outside which made leaving through the window unnecessarily complicated. But he played along anyway and got off the couch to join Raph in the tiny kitchen, chuckling all the while.

"You're such a fucking baby," he said, grabbing Raph's wrists to try and wrench his fingers away from the window. "Honestly, just take it as a compliment and stop freaking out."

"To be called a baby?" growled Raph, but he let himself be pried. 

Casey snorted. "That I _like_ you, asshole."

And he had expected Raph to continue to try and crawl out of his shell with discomfort, but to his surprise, it didn't happen. Raph just kind of deflated. His anger left him, and for a moment, they just stood there in Casey's tiny kitchenette that Raph was too big and bulky for, and Casey held Raph's hands in his own; three fingers on each hand, and green, and calloused from daily ninjutsu training.

There was a weird stretch in time in that moment. They just stood and held hands. Casey had a chance, just for a few seconds, to focus on that: The differences between them, the way he could count the tiny scales that made up Raph's skin, that one of his fingers was about as big as two of Casey's, how different it felt to hold three fingers compared to a more normal, human five...

And the fact that this was happening in the first place. That Raph—Raph!—let this happen in the first place.

Raph seemed to think the same thing. He let go. Casey let him. 

"So..." Casey carefully watched Raph, but he looked to the side, curling his open palms into fists. "We really are _not_ cool, huh."

"Look," Raph said, sounding pained. "I don't... _know_. I mean, we're not _not_ cool, but also, like..." He shrugged, forlorn.

"Okay, Raph..." said Casey slowly. "I know you're gonna hate it, but think we might have to talk about this."

Raph, unsurprisingly, made a face. "I don't wanna," he said.

"Yeah no shit," Casey snorted. "I mean, that's fair and all, but that also means shit is gonna be like this—" He gestured between them. "—and I dunno about you, but _I_ think it sucks and I don't want it."

Raph didn't say anything.

"You keep sayin' you don't want shit to be weird," Casey tried again. "And I think for it being not weird maybe we have to say a few words about our fuckin' feelings and shit."

Raphael just stood there; petulant, uncomfortable, unable to make eye contact.

There was a stretch of syrupy silence. 

Casey backed off mentally. What was that about giving Raph space? Yeah. He raised his hands and sighed. "Okay, let's go and sit down again, yeah?" He gave Raph a friendly pat on the biceps before indicating the couch. The TV was still running. The fact that Raph allowed the simple touch was a good sign, but when left the kitchen, Raph didn't follow. 

Regardless, Casey fell back down on the couch. There was still a soggy ice pack he put back on his leg, one arm thrown over the backrest easily. He looked at Raph. "So what about this?" he asked finally.

"'This,' what?" asked Raph tensely, squarely remaining in the kitchen where he was.

"The—" Casey made the universally understood gesture for jerking off. "That."

Raph raised his shoulders defensively. "You said it's no big deal," he said. "An' I asked first. You said it was okay."

"And I meant both of those things," Casey stressed. "But _you_ clearly think it'd a big deal and it looks like _you're_ not okay."

Raph didn't answer.

"Besides," Casey continued, shifting on the couch to put the bad leg up again with a soft grunt. "Earlier you said nothing's gonna happen, which is fine; like, whatever, we can just hang out, right? But that's _not_ what you sounded like all week, so I'm a little confused." Raph looked a bit offended, and Casey snorted. "Oh, don't gimme that look, man; you wanna have evidence?" He looked around for his phone and grabbed it from the coffee table, waving it around. "Want me to read it back to you?"

Raph winced. "No," he muttered, reluctantly. 

"Alright, fine. But then _what_ was that handjob, Raph?" Casey asked. "Because the way things look right now, it was a bit more than just a bro helping a bro out, you get me?" He looked at Raph, and waited a moment, but Raph was still just frozen in place, unable to speak or even to look at him. Much as it sucked, Casey realized he was not gonna get anything out of him anytime soon. Probably not even tonight. Maybe the ice was still too thin to walk on, let alone ice-skate. 

Casey sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Fine," he said. "Don't answer. But can you at least tell me if that was a one time thing or if you're gonna jump me again?"

" _Jump_ you?" repeated Raph.

Casey couldn't help but snort. "Yeah man, you kinda shanghaied me," he said, grinning a little. 

"I..." Raph hesitated. Then he said, softy, "Sorry."

"Dude, don't apologize," said Casey and wiped his face, if only to hide an eyeroll. "I mean I freaked out a little, but it was kinda hot, so we're fine."

Raph moved just enough to look back to him. The unspoken question was obvious in his disbelieving features. 

Casey shrugged. "I'm a simple dude, I get jerked off and I like it," he said.

"Oh my god," muttered Raph and rubbed his face. At least there was some snark back to his voice. That was something.

"So... You've not arrived anywhere in your journey of gay self-discovery then?" asked Casey carefully. 

Raph tensed, and bared his teeth a little. "Fuck you," he said. "I'm _not_ gay," he insisted.

"Yeah, okay," said Casey with a shrug. "Jerking off your homie isn't exactly super hetero though."

"I know!" said Raph, throwing his hands up, exasperated. "You think this is _fun_ for me?"

"The way ya been actin'? Pro'bly not," said Casey. "Question is if you think _jerking me off_ was fun, and you kinda already said you did? So you're bi, then. Hey, bros and all, right? High five!"

"God, stop talking," said Raph, wiping his face. "No, look, here's the thing—" And then he lost steam when Casey actually shut up and just listened, eyebrows raised a little as he awaited the explanation. 

Raph huffed, steeling his resolve. "I'm not into _guys_ ," he insisted. "And I _know_ I'm not. Because hu—"

"Humans look stupid," Casey ended the old mantra for him. "I know."

"Exactly! And the—" Raph gestured along Casey, heatedly, helplessly. "All'a that, that was— It wasn't—" Raph threw his hands up, grabbed his mask when he brought them back down. He swiped it off his head and pressed his face into it, walked a tight little circle in Casey's kitchenette and breathed into the fabric of it. 

Casey watched and waited until Raph came to a standstill again. "It wasn't...?" he prompted carefully. "Wasn't what?"

"It wasn't dumb, okay; like, it was okay!" Raph said, too loud and tense. 

"Uh," said Casey. "It was okay and not dumb for me too."

"Will you _shut up_ and _listen_ for a _goddamn second_!" Raph huffed aggressively, mask twisted between his fingers. His throat was tight and his eyes stung and he knew that it meant he was going to cry and he really didn't want to cry in front of _Casey_. "I'm freaking out here and you talk bullshit!"

Casey sank back a little. "I'm tryina help, man."

"Well you ain't!" snapped Raph.

Casey shook his head. "Raph!" he said, holding up both hands. "Raph. Come over here and sit down."

"No!" said Raph, breathing too fast. 

"At least come back into the living room?" Casey asked, a bit gentler. "I really don't think we should be having this conversation over two rooms."

"This hardly constitutes as a room," Raph wheezed, waving a hand around the tiny kitchenette. 

"You know what I mean, man," said Casey. "Come here and sit _down_ , okay?" 

It was a lofty goal to get Raph, agitated as he was, anywhere near a five foot radius of himself right now, let alone on the couch, and Casey knew this. But at least Raph huffed, breathed, and then very carefully inched out of the kitchen, if only to lean his shell against the wall directly around the corner. Fine, baby steps. 

Casey rubbed his face and sighed. "Alright," he tried again. "Okay. Spell it out for me what exactly has you so worked up."

Raph grimaced. "Did you fucking listen to a word I said?"

"I did," said Casey. "But there were a lot of _but_ s and _uhm_ s and a lot of yelling so I dunno if I got it right."

Raph huffed, still tense. He was still worrying the fabric of his mask between his fingers. At least he didn't yell again, but stared at his feet for a moment. They were big, and green, and only had two toes and of _course_ Casey had known that but it also kinda felt like maybe he realized it right now for the first time. 

"Everyone keeps saying I'm gay," Raph said finally. "But I'm _not_. I know I'm not."

"Yeah," said Casey slowly. "I got that part."

Raph nodded, still looking at the floor, looking miserable. It was quite the feat for a six feet tall mutant, honestly.

"Who's, uhm," Casey asked carefully, "who's 'everyone?'"

Raph grimaced a little. "Like, you, 'n Mike, 'n Dee..." he admitted. "Fuck, Leo probably would, too, if he wasn't afraid I'd punch his teeth out. Dunno."

"Leo has never been afraid of you and your half-assed threats of violence a second of his life," Casey said, because this was the first time all night he was sure of something. Raph knew it too, if the way he snorted and shrugged, easily, was any indication.

There was another thing though, so Casey asked, "And Donnie knows too?"

Raph rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Not really. Not the whole extent. Not about... what happened. I mean, you know what _he's_ like," he muttered. "But Mike yapped and then he came to me, kinda."

"'Kinda,'" snorted Casey. "Sure. What was that like?"

"Let's just say runnin' away to live alone in the sewers somewhere like a fuckin' bum is still lookin' like my best option," said Raph. "All'a my family is a goddamn pain up my tail."

Casey chuckled a little. "Alright," he said. "Okay, I believe you, man; I mean, nobody gets to stick a label on ya that you don't want, but I still gotta know: Why the fuck did last week happen the way it did? Like I mean... That idea didn't come outta nowhere, man, I don't buy it. Why in the hell would you just... do what you did? _Especially_ if you're not into guys." And before Raph could get all agitated again, he quickly added, "No blamin' you or anythin', I honest to god just wanna know."

Raph sighed miserably, his entire chest heaving. He looked at the ceiling with something like a desperate roll of his eyes. "I watched some gay porn and I guess, I dunno, I just wanted to see what would happ—Don't... fucking look at me like that, man—"

Casey was, indeed, staring at him, mouth hanging open in disbelief. "No, sorry—" he said quickly, blinking and looking away at anything else. He wasn't entirely sure what was wilder to think about, Raph jerking him off or Raph looking at gay porn. Had you told him either of these things just a week ago, he would have laughed. "Go... on."

"It was really stupid," Raph said desperately. "Like it was _really_ dumb."

"That's porn for ya," said Casey, still too dumbfounded for any other reaction. "'s not known for great plot."

"Yeah, I noticed," Raph scoffed, crossing his arms in front of his plastron. His face was dark with a blush, but his brows were furrowed earnestly. "So believe me when I say that I really don't wanna watch two human guys fucking."

"What about turtles?" asked Casey, because sometimes his mouth was faster than his brain. He realized his mistake immediately because Raph rose a few inches with renewed anger.

"Sorry, sorry, I know, _sorry_ , Jesus!" Casey said quickly, raising his hands placatingly, hoping the conversation was salvageable. "Gimme some slack here. This is a heavy topic you're dumping on me on a Friday night after I had probably at least two concussions."

Raph was silent for a bit, breathing, staring at his feet again. At least he didn't bolt. He didn't even yell, and didn't throw anything. 

And then he scoffed a little. "Only two?" he said softly. It was a peace offering. 

Casey chuckled, relief making him sink back into the couch. "Yeah, good point," he allowed, and raised the ice pack to a bump on his head. He was indeed getting a headache, but he was pretty sure that was more because of Raph.

Raph watched, and maybe he had the same thought, because he said, "Lemme get you a new one," and turned back into the kitchen to retrieve a new ice pack. 

Casey let him have some space and put the ice pack over the entirety of his hot face. 

Raph took longer than opening the fridge, grabbing an ice pack, closing the fridge and coming back to the living room strictly warranted, but when he was ready, he came back to the couch and actually sat back down, gingerly, next to Casey's stretched out leg. Casey accepted the ice pack and was careful not to accidentally brush Raph's fingers.

"Thanks," he said, and Raph said, "No problem man," and they were both very wary not to jostle the tentative peace between them. 

They sat for a moment. 

"So," Casey prompted finally, and the way Raph sighed meant he'd probably hoped they could just let it rest.

But Casey, for better or for worse, was very stubborn. 

"So I have a theory," he said. "About this. About you."

Raph looked at him, and there was hurt in his eyes, but what he said was, "Should I call a doctor? Your brain damage seems to be gettin' worse."

"Oh, har har, Raph," Casey said with a careful cheerfulness to his voice. He nudged Raph a little with his elbow. Raphael allowed it, which was progress.

"Let's hear that theory of yours, then," Raph said, turning his face away. 

"Okay." Casey cleared his throat. "So you're not into humans, right? Which makes sense, I guess. You don't think you're human, so why would you be into them? That's like, in every Sci-Fi show how two species dating is weird."

Raph next to him tensed, and Casey nudged him again. "Don't freak out yet, lemme finish speaking."

"Okay," said Raph reluctantly.

"Okay! Fast forward to me coming out as bi, which means, hey, I fuck guys, right? Which isn't a big deal, even you realized that after a while. Go you!"

"Casey," Raph warned. The sarcasm was needling him.

"Alright, I'm gettin' there," Casey chuckled. "So. You're not human and you're not into humans, but you're _juust_ human enough to wonder: Is that an option?"

Raph looked over without actually moving his head toward Casey. 

"Us," Casey elaborated, gesturing between them. "Fucking around." Raph half-turned and took a breath like he was going to protest, but Casey just kept speaking. " _C'mon_ , Raph. It's all you've been focusing on since I came out."

"Yeah but..." Raph muttered, quickly looking away and blinking too fast. "That was just 'cuz I just..." He shook his head. "I just wanted to understand, because..."

"Because _fucking me_ was suddenly on the table?"

"How has it _ever_ been on the table?" asked Raph defensively. 

"You say that like it didn't happen already, man."

"It's not like you asked!" said Raph, exasperated.

"No," said Casey. " _You_ did. And that means I'm not super off about this, am I?"

Raph turned his head to look at him. His eyes were big, with a wet sheen to them that spoke of how many things he was feeling beneath the crude exterior. But for the first time that evening, he could meet Casey's gaze without getting overwhelmed. They looked at each other for a long moment over the sound of never-ending Simpsons reruns. 

It was a question, which meant there needed to be an answer, and Raph didn't have one. Fortunately, one of his brothers always had all the answers, and in a dark corner of his brain, Mind-Donatello whispered, _Alcohol is a depressant, Raphie_.

So Raph jabbed a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. "Can I have a beer?" he asked.

Casey gave him a look like he was going to say something, but finally just shrugged. "Leo is going to break my spine and fold my corpse like origami," he said. "And then he'll put that in an envelope and ship it to my Ma with flowers and condolences written in cursive. Maybe a haiku."

"Pro'bly." Raph snorted. "So 's that a yes?"

Casey shrugged. "Sure, but if my father shows up to my funeral and bothers my Ma, promise me you'll fuckin' clock him."

"Any day, dude," Raph scoffed, but fondly, and gave Casey a companionable slap to the arm before lumbering into the kitchen and opening the fridge. A couple of beer cans took up most of the lowest level of Casey's fridge. Raph carefully peeked past the door back into the living room, checking if Casey was watching, but his attention seemed to be on the TV, so Raph cracked one can open very carefully, very silently, and emptied the entire thing at once. 

If nothing else, the cold bitterness was distracting.

He grabbed a still packaged six pack and carried that back into the living room. 

"How's the leg, by the way?" he asked as he handed Casey one of the beers. 

"Fine," said Casey as he accepted the can. "None 'a this was necessary. It's cute that you're doting on me though."

Raph bristled. "Fuck you."

"Only if you ask nicely." Casey winked and held his can out for Raph. 

Raph hesitated, still peeved, but Casey was smiling and waiting, so he knocked his beer against Casey's despite his trepidation.

\--

  
  


They turned back to the television, and for a while, everything seemed to have been said. The Simpsons were still running, forever, endlessly, like a modern cryptid. 

They drank in silence. It wasn't quite comfortable, but it also didn't seem like the fragile little thing it had been earlier, either. Besides, Raph very visibly tried to get used to the taste (and worse, smell!) of beer, and watching him grimace but pretend it was not bothering him after every other pull was very entertaining. 

Raph caught Casey staring and frowned. "What?" he asked, immediately defensive.

"Nothing," said Casey, looking back at the TV.

Raph didn't buy it. "What?" he asked again, more insistently.

Casey hid a smile behind a pull on his beer. "I just can't believe you watched gay porn," he said. 

Raph grimaced. "It's not funny."

Casey snorted. "Dunno man, it's a little funny," he said. "I mean I know you're impulsive, sure, but you said you didn't like it and you still watched the entire thing?"

Raph shrugged, uncomfortably. "I just thought it was a way to figure out what's wrong with me," he said evasively.

Casey kicked against his knee. "Don't gimme that bull, man," he said. "Nothing's _wrong_ with you."

Raph shrugged again, but at least didn't argue. 

"Okay, I _gotta_ ask though," Casey said, and Raph sighed.

"Please don't."

Casey laughed. "No way, man, I have to!" he said. "What kinda porn was it? Because if you like, watched something super weird that's probably why you didn't like it."

"No, I didn't _like_ it because it was porn and porn is _dumb_ ," muttered Raph defensively. "The actual thing was harmless."

"Vanilla stuff?"

"Yeah, basically." Raph rubbed his face, but couldn't entirely help the fact that the memory was a little funny in hindsight. "God, it was _so_ stupid. The dialog was so bad, dude. Who writes that shit?"

Casey laughed and relaxed against the backrest of the couch. "Have you ever seen the garden snakes one?" he asked.

Raph looked at him with big eyes and shook his head a little, and Casey chuckled as he grabbed his phone. "It's legendary, dude," he said. "It's so fucking funny."

He looked up the clip on YouTube to show to Raph, both of them bowed over the little phone screen next to each other. They laughed over the clip, and as these things went, one video led to another lead to another, one more absurd than the last. If Raph had had any prior apprehension toward watching the intros to porn with Casey, it all faded to nothing when faced with the bad acting and terrible writing. They were both breathless with laughter. The empty cans on the coffee table started to stack up, and Casey could feel Raph's muscles loosen and slacken: They leaned against one another for stability because otherwise their laughter would topple them over and off the couch.

On screen, an actor convinced the actress to give him a blowjob in the most nonsensical way possible, and Raphael almost choked, slapping his thighs as he doubled over to breathe into the place between his knees, trying to regain his composure. His laughter wasn't even making sounds anymore.

Casey laughed at him and the video in equal measure. "You okay there, buddy?" he asked, companionably patting Raphael's shell. He could feel the vibration of his laughter all the way into his warm palm. 

"This is ridiculous," Raph wheezed. He sat up, rubbing his wrists over his eyes, wiping away moisture. "How is any of this real?"

"I'm pretty sure some of these were on purpose," Casey snickered. "But I don't think just because we call them 'actors' means that they can actually, y'know, _act_."

"Yeah no shit," Raphael huffed, still breaking out in soft bouts of giggling even with the offending videos having come to a halt. Casey threw his phone back on the coffee table and handed out the last two beers.

Raph accepted the can and only then realized that one of the reasons why the dumb videos were _so_ damn funny was probably because he was a little drunk. 

Trying to test himself, he fiddled with the lid of the can until he broke it off. He tried to flick it toward the coffee table. He missed amply. 

Raph blinked, and realized too late that Casey had been talking and he had not paid attention. He took a quick pull on the beer, letting its coldness bring him back to earth. 

"What?" he asked.

"I just mean, like a blowjob needs any setup," said Casey, also flicking away the tab from his can. He did _not_ miss, Raph noticed. "You just ask and either they say yes, then, cool. Or they don't which, bummer, but still cool."

Raph snorted, nursing his beer. "Blowjobs are the weirdest fucking thing," he said. "I mean, puttin' your mouth on someone else's dick? Why?"

" _Well_ , I _mean_..." Casey said, voice high-pitched and shrugging exaggeratedly.

"Oh, of course," Raph scoffed. "Anything to get your dick wet, huh?"

"I mean, _yeah_ , kinda? It's nice." 

"Uh-huh."

"C'mon dude, it's not like _you'd_ know what it's like."

Raphael next to him tensed, and Casey realized what he'd said. 

He was ready to backpaddle, but to his surprise, Raph just sniffed, and scratched at the aluminium can with his thumb nail. 

"No," he said, not making eye contact. "I don't." He shrugged. "And never will, I guess."

Casey gave him a long look. "Mh," he said, turning his face away again to nurse his beer. "Hm." He scratched his chin. Raph next to him bounced his knee and fiddled with the beer can. 

Casey asked, "You want me to blow you?"

Raphael reacted like in slow motion. He lifted his head a little, looking away from the can in his hands, then toward the far wall, then turned his head to stare at Casey, features slack in disbelief. "Excuse me?" he said.

Casey shrugged. "You heard me," he said, like it was no big deal. "I figure fair's fair, right?"

"What—" said Raph before Casey had even finished speaking, "—the fuck, Case!"

"So that's a no?" said Casey, lifting his hands appeasingly. "What; is that too gay?"

"I'm a mutant turtle, moron," Raph reminded him, pale in the face. "Are ya out of yer goddamn _mind_?"

Casey lifted his shoulders slowly. "Yeah, and it's not freaking me out too much, honestly?" he said. "I've seen you like, almost every day for the past, what, four years? Five maybe?"

"That's not—"

"Whatever novelty there was has definitely worn off," Casey continued. "In fact, it was _you_ guys who told me you don't consider yourselves humans, anyway. So, eh. You have a bigger problem with this than me, if we're being honest."

Casey wasn't sure what it was, but Raph obviously took offense to that. "You have _no idea_ what you're talking about," he growled.

"Oh yeah?" Casey noticed the change and raised his eyebrows at him; challenging. "Try me."

"Casey, it doesn't _work_ like that—"

Casey made a buzzing sound. "Wrong answer. Try again."

Raph stared at Casey for a moment, incredulous. "What the fuck is your _damage_ , dude?" he asked.

"No damage, I just wanna know why you think this is something to get _mad_ over." Raph gave Casey a look and Casey laughed a little. "Fine, _some_ damage. Still just wanna know what you're thinkin' tough!"

Raph exhaled deeply in a groan. "For fuck's sake, Casey, I don't..." He rubbed his face, pressing his fingers against his closed eyelids. He sighed into his palms, shoulders sagging. "God, why are you so _stupid_?" he asked toward the ceiling. 

"My Ma says it's a feature," said Casey smugly. "Why are _you_ avoidin' the question?" 

"Oh my god, Casey, I have a _tail_!" Raph barked tensely, throwing his hands out. "Alright? I have a _goddamn_ tail, man."

Casey shut his mouth. There was a pause. Raph tucked his hands into his armpits, lower jaw pushed forward as he stared off to the side like he was embarrassed with the admission. Casey, in turn, stared at him, and couldn't help but let his gaze wander from his best friend's face, over the dark green curve of his shell, to the red, worn out sweatpants he was wearing. 

The shell made everything pretty vague, as far as shapes went. It was a prominent feature. The fabric of his pants was stretched tightly over it, and its edges pressed hard into the cushion of the couch where Raphael was sitting.

It made sense, didn't it? Turtles had tails. Hell, all four of the brothers referenced their tails in their family-distinctive vernacular. Casey just had never given it much thought before. He'd never thought of it as a tangible _thing_.

Raph stared at the floor, frown hard in his eyes and the corner of his mouth. His discomfort was basically palpable.

Casey took a deep breath. "Okay," he said. "That's cool."

Raph shot him a venomous side glance.

"Don't gimme that look, man! I mean it's _okay_ ," Casey amended. "C'mon, seriously here. You're a six foot giant mutant turtle, you think that's gonna freak me out at this point? I saw you eat mealworms from a pet store outta the bag like chips once, man. I can handle a tail if that's what comes with the package."

Raph stared at him without moving or saying anything. Casey stared back at him like it was a challenge. If Raph was going to be difficult about this, so was Casey. He never backed away from a dare and Raph had never scared him.

Raph was the first to break eye contact, huffing irritably as he stared away again. 

"So can I... see?" asked Casey carefully.

Raph actually flinched. "What?" he asked, more startled than anything.

"Is that weird?" asked Casey, somewhat innocently. 

"Of _course_ it's weird!" said Raph heatedly. "You don't just—I'm... It's... What the _fuck_ , dude."

"Alright, jeez. Sorry. I'm just curious," muttered Casey, willing to let it rest.

But Raph said, "The normal reaction to have is to _freak out_ , dude."

And Casey gave him another hard stare. "Is it though?" he asked, somewhat suspiciously. "Because I think you _want_ me to freak out so you can feel like you're right and you're some, what, hideous monster. Is that it? Here's a newsflash for you though, my dude: If the way you look was really _that_ much of a fucking turn-off, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't've let you jerk me off, yeah?"

"Look man—" Raph started, but Casey interrupted him.

"No man, _I'm_ talking," he said. "Whatever it is you're thinking is comin' a _bit_ too late. I mean yeah, you look different than me, but whatever. I woulda _maybe_ got you freakin' out over it five years ago or so when we first met but even then it really wasn't that big of a deal and it was actually kinda nice to meet you, right? So don't give me that bull _now_. Christ. The stuff that mutated you guys really oughta've given you some self-respect on top of that strength and agility."

"I have self-respect," protested Raph. "'s _exactly_ why I don't think you know what you're talkin' 'bout!"

Casey shrugged dismissively. "I mean, you're entitled to your privacy, sure, but don't try 'n tell me what I think, man. That's my fuckin' decision."

"Fine!" roared Raph, throwing his arms up in defeat. "You wanna see, then I'll fucking show you. But don't say I didn't warn you if you fuckin' barf or whatever!"

"Oh wow, _loads_ of self-respect," said Casey sarcastically, watching as Raph got off the sofa and grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants. 

Nothing happened. 

The tension drained from the scene like water down the sink. Like a physical hit to the chest, Casey could suddenly feel the vulnerability in the air. He carefully looked up at Raph's face. Raph was simply frozen in place, hands fisted into the elastic of his pants, shoulders hunched, toes curled into the floor. He wasn't looking at Casey. 

"Hey," said Casey, carefully, slowly sitting up, trying not to spook him. "Hey, Raph... Sorry for what I said, I didn't mean to—"

Raph flinched a little. "Shut up, just gimme a sec!" he barked. "I'll... I'll be right back, okay, just, fuckin', I don't know... Just fuckin' gimme a sec!"

And with that, he stormed out of the room and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He heard Casey call after him, but he didn't follow, and Raph relaxed a little with his shell leaned against the door, standing in the darkness because the bathroom didn't have a window and he had not hit the light switch outside. 

"Holy shit," he muttered to himself, rubbing his face. "Holy _shit_."

He took a moment and breathed into the confined space between his palms. Then he carefully straightened up and felt for the sink and the mirror above it. He found the light switch of the little light above that and switched it on, squinting uncomfortably in the sudden light.

Still blinking, he made a face at himself in the mirror when he caught a glimpse of his reflection. Not that he needed a visual reminder because he very much _felt_ embarrassed, awkward and terrified, but he looked it, too: pupils still blown from the darkness, his face flushed dark. The heat of his blush had traveled all the way down to his shoulders and plastron. His stretch marks, visible light green on his skin on any given day, stood out in dark contrast. 

_Virginal_ , Raph thought angrily at himself, _Ya fuckin' baby._

God.

 _Fuck_.

Casey had asked to see his tail. 

Did that absolute jerkass even realize what that meant? 

Because probably not! He probably didn't realize what a big fucking deal this was. 

Raph kicked irritably at some dirty laundry scattered over the bathroom floor. 

Nobody just got to see their tails. Not like there was anyone to show them too, anyway! And his brothers didn't count, they were his _brothers_ , they were all the same age, they'd grown up together—so it wasn't weird to _them_ , not exactly, and they still bathed together and it _wasn't_ weird because even without clothes they didn't even _look_ naked, Raph thought, at least not _really_ simply because they _weren't_ human and that meant things looked _different_ , but showing your tail to someone else was something very fucking different—someone who didn't _have_ one himself, someone who was _human_ and had a dick like any _normal_ guy—

"Hey Raph," said Casey on the other side of the door. Raph almost jumped out of his shell, startled out of his thoughts. "Look man, if this is stressing you out, you don't have to do shit. You know that, right? We can forget about this and, dunno, go down to the garage and load the bikes into the truck and go for a drive—"

"Your leg's hurt, idiot," said Raph. 

"Yeah, that's why I said we'd _drive_ , not _walk._ "

"You need ta fuckin' rest yer damn leg, man."

"Making me run after you is not a great way to get me to do that, dude," said Casey, laughing a little. Raph huffed, but it came out a little amused, too. 

"Hey," said Casey. "There's a bathrobe. You can come out and flash me, like a streaker."

Raph eyed the bathrobe. Casey was a big guy, but Raph was bigger, even without the shell. 

"Cute," he snorted, "but your size S ain't gonna fit me." 

"Oh, fuck you dude," said Casey fondly. "A'right. Imma go back to the living room and 'rest my damn leg.' Take as long as you need."

Raph heard his footsteps retreat and took a moment to breathe. 

It wasn't like it was inherently _weird_ to Raph to have a tail. He didn't mind it, not more or less than the rest of his body. It was just part of who he was, and always had been. What was weird ws to think that besides them, nobody else had one. And so, pretending like it wasn't there, it was easy to carefully curl his tail forward, tucked against his legs, hidden inside his pants. He'd done it all his life. 

Inviting someone else to be privy to that sort of knowledge was nothing short of terrifying. 

Raph grabbed the waistband of his sweats, carefully stretched it out so he could pull it away from the ridged spikes of his shell without tearing it, and stepped out of the legs. 

Just to soothe his frayed nerves, he folded the pants over his arms and smoothed out the well worn fabric. He took a breath, then a second, and a third.

Then he opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom. "I swear, if you bail on me now," he growled as he rounded the corner to where Casey was sitting on the couch, idly browsing his phone. 

With Raph getting all huffy about it, Casey hadn't known what he had expected—but honestly, not a lot had changed. Raph looked uncomfortable, holding on to the pants in his arms like a barrier between them. But there was really no reason to: In front, Raph was mostly plastron all the way to his hips. That much seemed to make sense to Casey. The edge of his lower scutes was often visible as a hard line though his pants and Casey hadn't expected much else. 

Raph's naked thighs looked pretty much like his arms; thick and curved with muscle, littered with lighter stretch marks over the softer insides, smooth while also a bit more textured than human skin; scaly and green. 

But then Raph moved, turning just a little to the side as he tossed his pants over a chair, and there, carefully curled against his left thigh was—

"Oh," said Casey. "You have a tail."

"Yeah no shit, Sherlock," Raph grunted. 

He crossed his arms, shifting his weight between his legs and stared at a point in a different direction. His tail was closely, tensely, wrapped around his leg, from the back around the inner side of his thigh. 

Like all of Raph, it was green, and there were ridges like little spikes all over the top. Reminded Casey of an alligator a little or, well... a snapping turtle. Which made sense, didn't it.

And that was why it wasn't all that weird to Casey, not after the initial surprise of finding out that your best friend had an appendage more than you expected him to. Because turtles had tails, and he's _known_ that. It wasn't weird. It wasn't any weirder than the green skin, and the shell, and the beak, and the three fingers and two toes—

 _Where's his dick?_ thought Casey suddenly. Where the fuck was Raph's dick?

It was _probably_ the wrong thing to think, and Casey cleared his throat quickly. Raph was staring at him, clearly waiting for whatever delayed reaction Casey would showcase.

Casey was pretty sure when Leo had told him to be responsible, he hadn't meant _this_ , but Casey thought he ought to try anyway. "Look, if you don't want—" he started to say, but Raph scoffed

"Oh shut up," he sneered. "Bit late now for you ta change yer mind. You wanna look, _look_."

"Alright." Casey took the invitation and got up, coming closer. "But, like... Tell me if you change your mind."

"Whatever," muttered Raph dismissively, staring to the other side as Casey rounded him. And then, softer, he said, "Yeah, okay."

Casey stepped past him. Lack of flexibility in his waist meant Raph really couldn't see anything happening behind him, so having Casey behind him was a bit weird. Raph had to half-turn to compensate.

Casey noticed. "Can you move it?" he asked, pointing a little to the tail that was still tucked safely against Raph's leg. The way Raph stood, with his shell casting shadows over his thighs, it was barely visible at all. 

"What the fuck?" said Raph, incredulous like Casey not knowing anything about tail anatomy was the dumbest thing ever. "Of course I can move it, ya moron."

And as if to prove it, he slowly let his tail drop. Straightened out, it reached to just shy of the soft hollow of Raph's knee. 

"Woah," said Casey, who had watched. "Can I touch it?"

" _No_!"

Raph made a half-aborted jump away from Casey to turn around. "No no no. You're not—Jesus _Christ_ , Casey—"

"Okay, okay!" Casey said quickly, lifting his palms up placatingly and taking a step back himself. "Sorry. No touching, got it, sorry."

Raph relaxed a little, shoulders dropping. "Goddamn, dude," he sighed , sounding a little pained. "Why the fuck do you make everything weird?"

" _I_ make everything weird?" said Casey with a disbelieving chuckle. 

" _You_ asked to see my damn tail, dude!"

"Yeah and _you_ wanted to see my dick! Give and take, right?"

"That comparison is a lot more spot-on than you fuckin' realize, you moron," muttered Raph, and Casey said, "Huh?" but Raph shook his head. "Forget it," he said. "Y'know what? Fuck it. Come here."

And Casey, surprised at the sudden change of heart, asked again, "Huh?"

"I said 's a'right!" said Raph impatiently. "You wanna touch it or nah?"

"I mean, yeah, kinda, but not if it's like, off-limits or somethin'—"

"What's _off-limits_ is your inability to decide what you want."

"Oh, look at you, tough guy. Weren't you the one who wanted to tell me what I want just ten minutes ago?"

Raph grunted and crossed his arms impressively over his plastron. Behind him, his tail swished to the side in something that to Casey, even as tail-less as he was, looked decidedly like aggravation.

Casey thought annoying Raph was a lot more fun than freaking him out and grinned up at him. 

"It's just—" huffed Raph, shoulders tense as he changed his weight in his hip, shifting from one feet to the other. "This is really gay."

Casey laughed. "More or less gay than jerking me off, smart-ass?"

"Up there," Raph muttered. 

"Casual reminder that gay doesn't equal bad," said Casey. "That said, if you don't want to—"

"I'm just sayin' it's _gay_ because that's really what it is and just _do_ it already, Christ. I'm so nervous I'm gonna fuckin' pee myself if you don't hurry it up!" Raph barked. 

Casey laughed at him some more and Raph put his face in his palm but Casey could tell the smile in the corner of his mouth. It was what made him close the distance between them again, and he walked slow enough to give Raph another second to change his mind, but Raph just stood, waiting with that infamous dogged determination of his now steely in his features, like it had become a dare. At least that felt more comfortable than the tentative air between them from before, so Casey took the invitation as what it was and reached for Raph's tail.

It felt like... well, it felt like skin. Raph's skin, anyway. Warm and scaly with muscle moving underneath.

"Huh," said Casey.

"What," muttered Raph, a bit sensitive.

"It's just... different than I expected," said Casey, which was the truth.

"What's that mean?" asked Raph tensely. "What did you expect?"

"Dunno," said Casey, because he couldn't say 'more like a dick' because, yeah, that was really stupid, wasn't it? Tails weren't genitalia, they were a part of the spine. Humans had those. Casey had one. It just so happened that Raph had more.

Oh, god. What _was_ Raph's dick like? And _where_ was it? He _had_ one, right? He had to. Like any sensible guy, Raph referenced it occasionally. That wasn't just a figure of speech... or was it? Casey had never thought much of it, because he usually didn't think of a friend's dick, because usually, the circles of "dudes I would fuck" and "dudes I'm friends with" didn't overlap. 

The silence stretched and Casey rubbed his fingers into the grooves between Raph's tail spikes without even really realizing it. They felt nice to the touch, warm, and the distance between them was just right for his thumb to fit into. The skin felt malleable, comfortable. And a little rough, like all of Raphael.

There was a twitch in the muscle beneath the leathery skin that surprised them both. Raph made a noise, half grunt and half sigh, and Casey looked up again in his face. Raph's cheeks and neck were a shade or two darker.

"Feels good?" Casey asked, and his voice sounded far less casual than he had been going for.

Raph kind of shrugged with one shoulder. "New," he decided slowly. 

"Bad?" Casey asked carefully.

Raph hesitated, then shook his head. "No," he said softly. "Just kinda private."

"So," said Casey slowly. "Just to get me, uh, up to speed with the, uh, the tail-thing... Because you were so sensitive about it, uh..."

Raph steeled himself for the question that was bound to come next. 

"So, uh," said Casey, "Is like... Is tail touching like a wedding proposal for turtles, or—"

"Oh my god—" said Raph, and whipped around to put his hand over Casey's face, covering the laughter that erupted out of his best friend, and _shoved_ Casey away with one arm. "You are a jackass, Jones."

"Oh, by trade," said Casey cheerfully. He had stumbled a few steps before catching himself. Raph scowled at him, but with a smirk underneath. This felt familiar, felt comfortable.

Raph snorted a little. "You're laughin' now, moron, but my gramma on my turtle side is super old-school and will expect a fancy ring, and _how_ will you pay for that with your shitty wage, huh?"

"Oh, for you, buddy, I'll put on a suit and ask the bank for a loan," Casey chuckled. "What worries me more is that there's apparently a gramma on your turtle side I never knew about! What's she like?"

Raph grabbed his pants from the chair he had thrown them to. "Uh, likes lettuce and, uh, eats raw fish, last time I saw her," he said a little lamely as he slipped back into the legs. 

Casey went to sit back down on the couch and put his injured leg back up, rubbing a bit over the sore muscle. He made a point not to watch as Raph dressed. "Oh shit, a true conservative then, huh? She and my father would get along. I say we just don't invite them to the wedding together, problem solved."

Raph stopped tying the string of his sweatpants halfway through to stare incredulously at him. "You know I was _joking_ , right? We're not gonna get married!" said Raph, who infamously lost his sense of humor when he was embarrassed.

"Oh, I dunno, I kinda wanna," said Casey with a soft shrug. He noticed Raph's face and snorted. "Not to _you_ , idiot."

"Oh thank god," muttered Raph. "I almost had a fuckin' heart attack, man. Stop with that crap."

"I'm serious, I totally wanna settle down at some point in life. Maybe have kids."

"Didn't you say you fuck guys so you _don't_ have to deal with that crap?" 

"Yeah," said Casey. "Because I don't want it _now_. But like, when I'm thirty of whatever? Why not?"

"And, what, 2.5 children, white picket fence, an' all that?" asked Raph, a bit incredulous. "Ya kiddin' me, Jones?"

"Shut up," said Casey, now looking a little sheepish. "Nothin' wrong with that."

Raph looked at him for a moment, but then decided to let it rest and shrugged as he carefully came back to the couch. Casey shuffled a little to the side to make room.

"Can't believe you have plans for when you're thirty," said Raph. "I don't even have plans for what's next _year_."

"I mean in all honesty, the question of marriage and kids don't really apply to you, does it," said Casey, looking at him. "If I were you I probably wouldn't worry about it either. And you're younger than me. I didn't have shit figured out with eighteen either. Don't worry about it."

"I'm sure Leo has his future planned out down to the second," muttered Raph.

Casey chuckled a little. "Probably," he said cheerfully. "But you also think he's a boring stick-in-the-mud, so really, why worry about it?"

"True," said Raph, and turned his face a little when he saw his phone, deserted ages ago on the coffee table, light up with a received message. He grabbed it up and swiped the lock screen away, only to see he had several unread messages, all sent by Leonardo but with different time stamps.

Leo 

> Hey. When do you plan to come home?

> Fine, don't answer. 

> You're still on thin ice, don't test your luck.

> I expect you to be home by daylight Raph, at the latest. 

> Don't ghost me, Raphael.

"Eugh," made Raph disdainfully, deep in his throat. "Speak of the fuckin' devil."

"Better make mom proud and get back, huh?" asked Casey cheerfully, relaxing against the couch. "If you want you can come by tomorrow and we'll take a look at the bikes then."

" _You_ should really come by the lair again sometime, man," said Raph, typing out a quick reply to his Blue Overlord. "Haven't shown your face around for a week."

"I was busy!" Casey defended himself. "And besides, I... Honestly, I wasn't sure if you'd want me to. Don't wanna put you on the spot or nothin'."

Raph's eyes flicked from his phone screen to Casey. Casey lifted his eyebrows a little. Raph looked away again.

"It's fine," he said dismissively. "Honestly, I'm more worried about Mike."

"Oh, I am looking forward to _that_ encounter," said Casey with a soft laugh. "See if he's as bad as you say."

Raph grunted as he rose from the couch, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "Bring pizza and buy his silence," he suggested. 

"Mike owes me like thirty bucks in pizza by now, the leech!" chuckled Casey, accompanying Raph to the way to the window. 

"Well, you know," said Raph easily as he opened the window. "There's 'street-smart' and 'book-smart,' and then there's pizza-smart. My brothers have all bases covered."

"Uh-huh," said Casey, decidedly not asking what kind of smart Raph considered himself. He had a feeling he knew the answer and wouldn't like it.

Raph held his fist up, Casey bumped his against it and watched as Raph hopped out of the window into the fire escape outside. He did a cursory look around, and then looked back at Casey.

"Hey," he said.

"Hm?" asked Casey, hands already up to close the window again and draw the blinds.

"Uh..." Raph rubbed his neck uncomfortably and shrugged. "You were serious earlier, weren't you?"

"Huh?"

"The, uh... You asked if you could, uh, if I wanted you to—" Instead of actually finishing that sentence, Raph just huffed irritably and shrugged. "Were you really serious about that?"

Casey gave him a look. Raph stared back at him, half-hidden in the gloom of the night outside. 

"Wouldn't've offered otherwise," said Casey finally. "I know I say a lot of bullshit but that's not really somethin' I'd joke about."

"And... what you know now, that... that doesn't change anything?"

" _Nnnope_ ," said Casey, popping the _P_. 

Raphael blinked, once, twice, then nodded slowly. He sniffed, and grabbed the railing of the fire escape. "A'right," he said. "See you later, Case."

"G'night. Get home safe, man," said Casey, giving him a little wave.

As Raph vanished into the night, he closed the window behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i CANNOT believe you two, I truly cannot! what a trainwreck this is.
> 
> some of you have already professed to a wish that these two should kiss already and every time one of you says something along these lines, i rub my little gremlin hands together and break into a Disney-villain-esque song and dance routine. because you have no idea the level of dumbness i'm willing to let them sink to.


End file.
